


After the Island

by airandangels



Series: EG & JB [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airandangels/pseuds/airandangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow-up to To the Island, sort of bookending the actual TV series. In which, on post-war Cardassia, Julian attempts to rekindle the relationship he had with Garak. There is really no greater point to this than 'I just want them to be togetherrrrr.'<br/>Oh, and don't worry, O'Brien, Pulaski and Macet are only present as supporting cast, you won't see any of their bare bums.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prefatory note: In this story, Julian says he is a Gemini. Memory Alpha says he was born in 'late 2341' which doesn't synch with that, but if Julian Bashir is not a Gemini there is nothing in the whole system of astrology. OH WAIT MAYBE -
> 
> Also I'm just making up my own stuff about what Garak is doing on Cardassia post-war; I haven't read A Stitch in Time or any of the relaunch novels.

 

 

* * *

 

Garak had felt so sick for the past week that he had begun to wonder if he was dying, and he didn't even have the energy to be angry that he should die now. It felt so stupid. And he couldn't afford to. There was so much he had to do, and ought to do, and should already have done, and even getting out of bed to go to the toilet resulted in surges of nausea and dizziness, so that he had to creep his way around the walls of the room holding onto furniture, and crawl across the bathroom; and as often as not, on the way back he would have a coughing fit that left his whole chest burning and his vision blipping and his throat raw. He could only breathe through his mouth, and his head felt as if it were trying to grow Klingon ridges from the inside out. His nail beds and eyelids and gums ached.

There was nothing he could do but crawl back and forth between the bed and the toilet, and try to swallow what his housekeeper brought him, with very little sense of whether it was food, drink or medicine. He hated to think what she could be telling people about him, what the consequences could be, but he was helpless. He wished Mila were here. He alternated between fever and chills at intervals that never had the decency to become predictable. Sometimes his nose would come unstuffed for a few minutes together and then he could smell himself. He wished he could die, if he were going to, and be done with it. 'For Cardassia,' he muttered into his sweat-stale pillowcase, and made a sound that didn't know whether it was a laugh or a sob or a cough.

He fell into a fitful sleep full of nightmares of crushing darkness, of a weight on his chest, of crawling through a narrow tunnel in perfect blackness, desperate above all to lift his head but knowing he would crack his skull if he did, and knowing now that he was under a mountain, and the rock was closing in around him, rough and cold and black embracing his arms and his chest and his neck, plugging his mouth and nose, and he could not go backwards, could only burrow endlessly deeper into his death.

He never got out of the tunnel as far as he could tell, but the weight on his chest eased, and after a time there was a coolness on his face and a hand holding his.

Eventually he knew that he was awake, and that Julian was sitting by his bed, chin propped up on his other hand, looking sleepy and a touch bored.

'What are you doing here?' It was a reedy croak, but it didn't hurt to produce.

'Hallo.' Julian lifted his head, rubbed away a kink in the back of his neck, and smiled at him.

'Really.'

'Your housekeeper sent for me.'

'Really?'

'She's worried about you.'

'Huh.'

'And apparently you have been asking for me, though perhaps not while fully conscious.'

'Oh hell.'

'Nothing embarrassing. Just "doctor, my doctor," and since you don't have a physician here she worked out you must mean the doctor where you used to live, and looked me up.'

'Oh.' He thought about that. 'Drink?'

'Here.' Julian poured him a glass of water from an insulated jug on the nightstand; it was blessedly cold, although it tasted strange. 'And there are rehydration salts in that too, and some vitamins and minerals, because you are terribly run down.'

'What is it?'

'A nasty viral influenza. You couldn't really describe your symptoms to me when I got here last night, but you were obviously miserable. I've dosed you with fever and pain relief, and started you on a course of antivirals. Expect to feel a bit better tomorrow, and to be back to normal in two or three days - apart from being weak and tired, because you've lost a lot of weight the hard way.'

'Don't you need my consent to start treatment like that?'

'I presumed,' Julian said, and held Garak's hand to his cheek.

'Don't,' he said, although he didn't have the energy to take his hand back, either.

'Don't presume, or don't touch?'

'Might make you sick.'

'Don't worry. My immune system isn't vulnerable to this particular virus. Which is good, because I'm staying until I'm sure you're all right.'

'Don't.'

'Why not, dear?'

He couldn't quite put it into words, but he felt, obscurely and strongly, that if Julian was there, being kind and calling him dear and looking at him with that great endless warmth in his eyes, something would go badly wrong. While he was trying to think how to say it, he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

The next time he was sure he was awake, Julian was sleeping curled behind him, on top of the covers, one arm slung loosely over his waist. He thought he could feel the bit better he'd been promised; his throat was sore and his chest felt tight, but not as fiercely. At least his nose was dry now, although it felt as if all the fluid had gone while leaving all the solids of the mucus behind in a hard crust, as if the insides of his sinuses were lacquered. He rethought that image and decided it was exactly disgusting enough for how he felt. He wrinkled his nose and felt the inside crackle. Most satisfactory.

He eased out from under Julian's arm and the quilt and put his feet to the floor. After he had proven to himself that he could handle sitting up, he stood and attempted the crossing to the bathroom. This ended badly, crouching on the floor in front of the toilet without the wherewithal to get up and onto it. He could have cried. It was stupid to be so weak. After a while Julian found him and helped him up.

'You're going to forget all about this,' he said, sitting with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

'Forget about what? I remember this shampoo. I used it for a while myself, but it was too drying. It smells nice, though.' Julian made a great, casual show of going through the bits and pieces on the shelf by the bath.

'I must stink.'

'I'll help you clean up after you have a proper breakfast.'

'I don't want you to see me like this.'

'Well, is there anybody else in the whole universe you'd trust to be in your bathroom with you? And are you capable of doing it on your own?'

Garak could only answer with sullen silence. After a bit, Julian remarked 'I must say, I'm impressed by your accommodations. It's a good little house. I didn't know rebuilding was going so well.'

'It's been two years. We've worked hard. Almost everyone is in permanent structures now.'

'You've certainly worked hard. Perhaps a little too hard, if you've got this sick.'

'Just... don't look at me until I have my pants back up.'

'As long as you don't fall.' Julian studied the soap while Garak restored his dignity, flushed the toilet and washed his hands. Then he was at his side, hand under his elbow, guiding him back to bed. 'There. Just get comfortable, and I'll bring you something easy but nourishing. How do you feel about eggs?'

'Terrible.'

'They're just what you need, though.'

 

* * *

 

It was all slightly too much. Julian propped him up in bed with extra pillows and brought him the eggs on a tray with legs to go over his lap; there was no such thing in the house as far as he knew. While he made himself eat them (they tasted of warm nothing) Julian sat beside the bed and read the news aloud to him. He and his illness weren't even mentioned, and everything at the ministry seemed to be going smoothly without him. Of course he wouldn't have wanted things to go badly, for decisions not to be made and people in need to be left hanging, and he had made sure he had a highly competent staff under him... but none of them had even called to ask his advice on anything.

'Do you want to hear your horoscope?'

'No.'

'You should. An old friend re-enters your life. Listen to him; he may annoy you but he has your best interests at heart.'

'Liar. They're never that specific.'

'True. And I can't even tell which one would be mine. I'm Gemini.'

'It's all nonsense, anyway.'

'You sound better, you know. Your voice is coming back. Earlier you were very croaky.' A fond, kind look, and yes, it was too much.

'How's Ezri?'

Julian blinked, and gave that particular tight smile that meant he was uncomfortable but wanted to be agreeable. 'She's pretty well, thanks. We aren't living together any longer.'

'Oh?'

'Look, you don't want to hear all about my messy life.' His eyes darted away.

'I rather do.'

'Well...' Julian flipped the padd over and over in his hands. 'At first I thought she was just getting a bit depressed. You know, glum, withdrawn, losing interest in things she liked. So I tried to be supportive and encouraging. But before too long she... well, she sort of called a meeting, and told me that she couldn't go on like this. That she really did care for me, but not in the way she needed to, that I was a lovely person but we weren't a match. And I was hurt and demanded a proper explanation, and after some goading it all came out, that she was regretting ever beginning with me, that she'd been fooling herself that nostalgia and - I don't want to say pity, but _kindness_ , nostalgia and kindness were a basis for a relationship, that she didn't regret staying on the station when she did because she was needed and it had been important but now the war was over she couldn't go on living a life she inherited from Jadzia. And she couldn't make me happy just because she thought I deserved to be happy. And it hadn't been true about Worf, it was never going to be me, not with Jadzia, and she'd felt sorry for me because of that. She'd leaned on things from Jadzia's life because she wasn't confident enough about her own and she had to change that. By which time we were both crying and shouting, and I threw a slipper. Not at her. But it wasn't my finest hour.'

'I'm sorry,' Garak said, and actually was a bit, because it was clearly still hurting Julian.

Julian leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. 'I felt so guilty, because I was relieved - but I felt hurt and angry to be rejected too. It was all so... I was fooling myself too, obviously, hoping that she'd become more like Jadzia as she matured. I _liked_ Ezri. I didn't love her. I loved the idea of her, and sometimes I wonder if I only ever loved the _idea_ of Jadzia. And I wanted to be settled, to have found my partner. Not to reach forty as a bachelor.'

'Well, you're only thirty-six. You have some time.'

'And I feel guilty again,' Julian said, 'because I was glad when I heard you were sick. It meant you needed me. It meant I had a reason to go and see you, and seeing you is all I've wanted since Ezri left.'

'I'm not the answer to your problems, doctor.'

'But it is nice to see you.'

'It's nice to see you too.'

'Finish your eggs, and I'll help you to the bath.'

 

* * *

 

Being helped to have a bath made Garak angrier than ever. He didn't want to be seen naked under these circumstances; he didn't want to feel like an old man; he didn't want to have his hair washed for him and gently rinsed with water from a jug. He held it in and tried to appreciate the kindness, and the simple relief of becoming clean. Focusing on that was important in order not to think about past baths and Julian's hands being welcome in private places and having nothing between them but the thinnest film of warm water. Julian was fully dressed, just having rolled up the sleeves of his uniform. His arms were unfairly beautiful, slender and strong.

'Does that feel better?'

'Yes, thank you.'

'Your colour's a bit better. Maybe just from being warm. You do seem stronger, though. I'll get a towel.'

He tolerated being dried off, both glad that he didn't get an erection from the rubbing and fed up that he couldn't muster one. There were clean pyjamas, which he put on for himself, and when he went back into his bedroom, Julian following close behind in case he should wobble, the housekeeper had changed his sheets and put a small posy of flowers on his nightstand. The little green ones on long, stringy stems that were the first thing to grow back in the blast craters. An ex-gardener ought to know the proper name for them, but he didn't, and people called them Cardassia's Spring these days. It was a nice metaphor for coming out of a long, terrible winter, even if he often feared it was a false spring and they would soon be shivering again.

'As long as I'm up I should check my messages.' His cough, which he had been hoping had run its course, came back on just then and he had to bend double. Julian caught his arms and held him steady until he got his breath back.

'You're not up. Get into bed. Your messages will wait.'

Julian tried to tuck him in, and he swatted his hands away. 'I don't recall you changing your occupation to nursemaid,' he grumbled.

'I just want to look after you. Shove over. That chair is uncomfortable.' He sat beside Garak, leaning against the headboard with his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle. 'Now. You can sleep. You can read. I can read to you. We could watch an old film on my padd. But you have to rest.'

'Get your dirty boots off my quilt.' He coughed again, but smothered it in his sleeve.

'They're quite clean, but there.' He pulled them off and dropped them beside the bed. 'It's a very nice quilt. Did you make it?'

'Julian. I appreciate you coming. I appreciate the medical assistance. You don't have to stay with me.'

'No, I choose to stay with you. You don't know how scary you looked when I arrived. Both for my own peace of mind and for the good of Cardassia, I need to see you fully restored to at least moderate health.' Julian patted his arm. 'I read about you in the news, you know. All the wonderful things you're doing. The tailor mending the torn seams of the state.'

'Young Mr Sisko should reserve his way with metaphor for his fiction. It really isn't suitable for journalism.'

'Speaking of which, read any good books lately?'

'I haven't had time to read for pleasure. Mostly it's been history and politics. Looking for ideas I could use.'

'I think you need something completely frivolous, then. I'm going to read you Wodehouse.'

And he did, quite relentlessly, until Garak fell asleep in self-defence.

 

* * *

 

Julian was still there when he woke, reading silently now. He pretended to still be asleep until he really was again, so he was quite annoyed when Julian woke him by giving him a shot.

'It's just your antivirals. Go back to sleep.' A warm hand smoothing his hair.

'I _was_ asleep. Don't bother me.' He slipped away again, wishing the hand had stayed.

 

* * *

 

And still, the next time he woke, Julian was there. He had shifted position to lie on his front, knees bent and feet in the air, ankles crossed. Garak thought he looked like a child lying on the floor to draw. He looked up and smiled when he heard Garak stir.

'Hallo. Feeling any better?'

'A bit. Less sore all over.' He hitched himself into a sitting position and found that he felt stronger.

'I let you sleep through lunchtime, because I thought you needed it, but what do you want for dinner?'

'I don't know. I'm thirsty, though.'

'Red leaf tea?'

'I like that at breakfast time.' It was irritating of Julian to remember his favourite. 'Just water, please.'

'All right. There you are.' Julian leaned across his lap to reach the jug and glass on the nightstand, and Garak leaned back into the pillows to avoid his shoulder brushing against him. 'You're acting as if you don't want me to touch you,' Julian said, rocking back to sit on his heels, looking puzzled and hurt.

'I did mention that I was sore all over.' Garak took a long drink of water to avoid further explanation.

'Aren't you happy to see me? To be together again?'

'I told you it's nice to see you.'

'I know you're not feeling well, but we're together. We're _alone_ together. Don't you feel safe in your own home, even now?'

'No, Julian, I am not feeling well. I am also feeling very tired. I have been tired for years. And honestly, doctor, I do not have the energy to begin to care about you again, and then to say goodbye to you once more.'

'I'm going to ignore how unfair you're being, on the grounds that you are indeed very tired. But I just want to remind you that it was you who wanted to keep everything secret, and you who said it was too risky, and you who said you didn't mind my "lady friends!" What changed? Why are you so angry?'

'Everything changed. Look out the window and see some of the changes. And if you can't see the difference between screwing dabo girls and wanting to "settle down" with Ezri -'

' _You_ said -'

'I was wrong to say it, obviously! Clearly, I should have said Julian, you may have all the superficial relationships you like but never one that's deeper because it will actually make me completely wretched, while of course, I can never actually be with you and so I can offer you no meaningful alternative. That would have been much better.'

'Why never?' Garak had been hoping Julian would get crosser still and shout back, so the softness of his voice, the beseeching tone, almost undid him. 'Really, Elim, why never?'

'I didn't know how I was going to feel,' Garak said, avoiding the question. 'I didn't think I'd ever mind so much.'

'You certainly didn't show it. I couldn't tell if you cared at all any more. The only thing that let me hope was the fact that I know what a good liar you are. Are you telling the truth now?'

'You've caught me at a low ebb. My usual powers of deception are out of commission.'

'I wondered at one point if you might marry Ziyal.'

'Ziyal?' Garak's eyes widened. 'Ziyal was - she was like a child, a sweet, good child. She was infatuated with me and I wanted to be kind to her.'

'And of course, it really annoyed Dukat.'

'Well, yes! But that doesn't mean I would ever have inflicted myself on her in marriage.'

'That was a masterful sidetrack, but I have to ask you again. Why _never?_ Back when we made our agreement, you said perhaps one day things would be different. Now you seem sure they won't be. What needs to be different? What would make it safe for you to be with me? It's not as if you have scores of enemies any more. Frankly, most of them must be dead. And you've made yourself indispensible. I'm sure there are lots of people who don't like you, but they all know that removing you would make things worse for them in some way. Do you really still think being with me would be too risky?'

'Risky in a different way. I didn't know I'd be a politician, now did I?'

'You think they'd chuck you out for being with another man?' Julian asked incredulously.

'Of course not. For being with an alien. You must know how afraid people are of getting absorbed into the Federation, of losing our identity.' He had to stop and cough again, so hard that he spilled the rest of the water and Julian went off and brought him a towel. He leaned back on the pillows and took several long, croaking breaths, until he was quite sure he wasn't expiring.

'My poor Elim,' Julian said, blotting the front of his pyjama jacket. He poured him another glass of water and watched him sip. 'Better?' Garak nodded and closed his eyes, hoping to be let alone due to his evident feebleness.

Julian curled up beside him, though, and after a while he said 'Do you remember how we used to meet? Not the standing lunch date. How you'd slip me a message, so secretly, saying it will be safe at this time, in this place, and I'd go and you'd be there waiting... and we'd fall on each other and make love until we were exhausted? You had me in some pretty strange places. On the way there I'd be so excited... and on the way back I'd be so lonely. Why did you stop?'

He paused and waited. Garak said nothing. 'I only realised later that the intervals were getting longer... and then the last time, I didn't know it was the last time. Except the time after that you cancelled... and then there was nothing more. And I knew I couldn't ask you why.'

Garak shrugged. 'There really were fewer and fewer opportunities. And you were growing away from me. It was best to let it go.'

'There were two of us involved. It would have been nice to be consulted.' He brushed Garak's cheek with the backs of his fingers. 'If you thought I was growing away from you... that I wouldn't want you any more... that's not true. I love you. I've wished I could stop, that it would just fade away naturally, that someone else would take your place... I still love you. I think it's permanent.'

'It's not fair of you to confront me with all this when you know I'm not well.'

'I suppose it's not.' He felt Julian take his hand away. 'Can we talk about it properly when you feel better?'

'When I feel better, I'll be able to escape if you try to talk about it. So I suppose it's now or never.' He wet his lips and opened his eyes, fixing them on the ceiling. 'I'm sorry for... for encouraging you... for starting something I couldn't see through. I knew I was being foolish and reckless and it seemed...'

'Worth the risk, you said. Wasn't it?'

'At the time. But...'

'But what? But you miss me? You need me?'

'It's so pointless even to talk about it.'

'You may think so. I certainly don't. Look, Elim, there are ways we could manage this. I'm not chained to DS9. You yourself helped set up a Federation medical aid operation, well, I could be part of that. Cardassia needs doctors, doesn't she? Aliens are all right to make up the deficit until more natives can train and qualify, aren't we? I could be here, could live here, and help you with all that you've got to do.'

'And distract me.'

'If by distract, you mean make sure that you get enough rest and have some sort of work-life balance, yes. And people could get used to me, and see that I don't mean some sort of insidious Federation infiltration, and you certainly don't take orders from me. If you go on doing a wonderful job, but you look a bit happier, do you think anyone's going to say I'm a malign influence?'

'I think you underestimate Cardassian xenophobia.'

'I would think that now, when everything's been shaken down to the ground, was a good time for some changes to begin.'

'They'll think I've drunk the root beer.'

'The expression is "to drink the Kool-Aid" and they'll eventually see they're wrong. They'll just have to. Please look at me.'

Garak sighed, gave in, and turned his head. 'I'm not deciding anything today.'

Julian's eyes fairly glowed with happiness. 'You don't have to. Rest and get well.' He leaned over and kissed Garak's forehead.

'You look very pleased for someone who hasn't won his point yet.'

'I'm going to wear you down. Like water on a stone.' A kiss on his cheek, then on the other. 'And then, you'll be so happy...'

'You can't seriously want to kiss me in this condition.'

'You don't look as bad as you feel, and I do love you an awful lot.'

'Why, though? You know me so much better now. Surely that should have put paid to it.'

'Nothing does.' A very soft, light kiss on his lips, making him aware of how chapped they were. 'Because you're mine, and I'm yours.'

 

* * *

 

Garak felt a little better again the next day, as forecast. Julian was, after all, an excellent doctor. He had had a moderately good dinner and a decent night's sleep, without nightmares. Perhaps that was because Julian had slept beside him, although he had had the delicacy to get into bed in his undershirt and shorts, instead of presuming he could hop in nude. He woke him at a sensible hour with a cup of red leaf tea, the news padd and another shot of antivirals.

'Now while you catch up on current events, I'll have my shower, then we can have breakfast together. Then you can have a bath. Assisted or solo, just as you please.'

'I think assisted would be wise,' Garak admitted. He sipped the tea cautiously. 'I can taste this today.'

'I can read to you again.'

'Please don't. At least, not Wodehouse.'

'Too frivolous?'

'Too much in all directions at once.'

'I'll think of something else. Now enjoy your tea while I get clean.'

Breakfast actually had a taste, a pleasant one, and he felt as if it were doing him some good, energy running through him bite by bite. Julian watched him fondly, and poured more tea, and ate about twice what he did. He had to keep reminding himself not to gaze foolishly at his deep hazel eyes, the tender Cupid's bow of his upper lip, the shadow of stubble above it and along his jawline.

'Aren't you going to shave?' he asked.

'Shh. Don't tell,' Julian said. 'I'm a disgrace to my uniform.' His eyes twinkled mischievously and Garak wished he didn't feel so weak.

'I liked your old uniform better... with the blue shoulders. All these grey shoulders, with the only touch of colour at the collar - frankly, it makes you look too much like us. Or the uniform before that - the top and pants? That was very smart. The designs just seem to have been getting darker and darker, and it doesn't suit you, as an organisation. If it were up to me, though, you'd go back to those red jackets with the white collars, from last century.'

'I wore one of those to a party once, at the Academy, and I did pull.'

'I'm sure you did.'

'Well, if restoring Cardassia to prosperity doesn't work out, you can come and design a new uniform for Starfleet. I'd give you a very good reference.'

'It has to work out.'

'I know. I know it does. So perhaps it could just be a sideline.'

'What happened to my work-life balance?'

'I wouldn't let it get out of hand. If Starfleet made excessive demands, I would run them off very fiercely. This man has a duty to his people, I would say. You and your decisions about epaulettes will just have to wait.'

'You do know I haven't decided yet.'

'I'm just encouraging you to make the right decision. Finished?'

'Thank you.'

'Bath time?'

'I think so.'

He wasn't as resentful today, but of course he wasn't as weak today. He didn't need the help as much, so it didn't bother him as much. He could lean forward, elbows on knees, and enjoy Julian washing his back.

'Would you like me to get you off?' Julian whispered in his ear. 'Anything you like, dear.'

'I'm in no fit state to reciprocate.'

'I'll take an IOU. Really I just want to remind you how good I can make you feel.'

'I was never in any danger of forgetting that.'

'I'll give you a refresher. Go on.' A hand stroking his thigh, gliding underneath.

'You quite blatantly just want to touch my cock.'

'Yes, I do. I've missed it. I do have a dildo that's approximately the same size and shape, but of course, size and shape are just a fraction of its appeal.'

'I bet the lady friends don't see that.'

'The lady friends have the benefit of _my_ cock and don't feel the lack of yours as acutely as I do.' Julian kissed the back of his neck. 'I'll know you're all better when you can nail me to the bed like you used to.'

'Right now, I don't think I could even paper-clip you to it.'

Julian laughed softly. 'Come on. We're talking in circles. All you need to do is lie back, so I can reach it, and I can kiss you and give you a lovely slow gentle handjob, and it's my medical opinion that an orgasm will make you feel much better.'

'That sounds faintly unethical.'

'Come onnnn.' A very light bite on his shoulder, really just a momentary pinch with the teeth. It sent shivers through him, the first pleasant ones he'd had in a long time.

'All right.' He leaned back, exposing himself, relieved to see desire, not just kindness, in Julian's eyes.

'That's right.' A deep, warm kiss, lapping like the movement of the water against his skin, concentrating on his upper lip, his lower lip, tongue slipping in between to caress his. He had absolutely not forgotten how Julian could make him feel, could not have forgotten, but to feel it again after so long was overwhelming. Julian's fingertips were trailing down his stomach, over his hip, along his thigh, back up, down the other side, tracing a tingling wishbone shape.

'I thought you wanted to touch my cock, dear.'

'Someone told me it's better if you have to wait for it.' Strong, slender fingers wrapping around him, gliding delicately up and down. He puffed out his cheeks and exhaled slowly, a sigh of deep pleasure.

'I love you, my Elim.' Kisses and caresses, both gradually growing heavier, that gliding hand squeezing him tighter, swivelling around. 'Love you so.'

'Aah...' He lifted his hips, clenching his buttocks, tensing all over as the friction grew sweeter, gripping the rim of the bath.

'Relax. Don't try so hard to hold on. Just come. Come for me.' That soothing, coaxing voice was the last straw, and a great surge of bliss overtook him. He sank back into the water, light-headed with relief, and felt Julian's lips on his forehead like a blessing.

'Don't you feel better?'

'Mmm...' He stretched out his legs and opened his eyes. 'Thank you, dear. This must be unsatisfying for you, though.'

'I'm all right.'

'You're not hard?'

'I'm desperately hard, but that's not incompatible with "all right". Do you want to watch me?'

'Get up and show me?' Julian rose up on his knees, displaying the taut bulge in his crisp jumpsuit. 'I've missed that too.'

'Want to see it again?' Getting the nod, he unzipped the front of his suit and pushed it off his shoulders, down from his hips, slipped down his shorts. His cock swung free and bounced up, ruddy and wet at the tip. After a moment for admiration, he sat down, legs spread, leaning back against the wall, pushing his pants further down.

'You _are_ beautiful,' Garak said wistfully.

'I feel it when you look at me like that.' He was stroking himself gently with one hand, caressing the head with the fingertips of the other, nudging his foreskin up and down. 'You know I think of you when I masturbate? Still? I go back in my mind to a day on that island... or that time in the runabout... or I just imagine you and me somewhere we never actually were... I get a bit silly sometimes.'

'I can imagine. Spy games?'

'You know me all too well.' Stroking faster now, with a hot blush rising in his cheeks. 'We chase each other all over the world, and fight, and fuck, and take off and do it all again.'

'Who fucks who, dear?'

'Well - ah - mostly you fuck me... you seduce me... you ravish me. You leave me sore and breathless and - terribly compromised.' Hand jerking rapidly now, the rosy head gleaming, and he was biting his lower lip, breathing hard. 'Because I - I'm in love with you - I - oh God.' His hips jerked once, twice, plum-pink flaring to red as white spilled over his fingers. He subsided into soft panting, head tipped back against the wall.

'Absolutely beautiful.'

Julian sighed, his breathing beginning to return to normal. He reached over the side of the bath and dabbled his hand in the water to rinse it. 'So... that's embarrassing.' He flashed a brief smile.

'It doesn't sound good for MI5.' He kissed the back of Julian's wrist, turned it over and kissed the pulse.

'No... it'll be all right. I'll get you back next time.' Julian took a deep breath and got up, wiping his hand dry on the bathmat and pulling his uniform back together. 'You'll see.'

 

* * *

 

Julian stayed loyally at his side all through that day, apart from an hour spent taking care of messages from the station.

'They'll want you back soon,' Garak said. He was sitting up in bed with a mystery novel Julian had recommended.

'They can manage without me until you can.' Julian got up from the table where he'd been working.

'Then it's in my interest not to make too quick a recovery?'

'I'll know if you're shamming.'

 _'You_ will know if _I_ am shamming?'

'Medically, yes.' Julian waggled a tricorder. 'Speaking of which, I need to check on your progress.' He sat down on the side of the bed. 'Just hold still, please.'

Garak sat obediently while Julian scanned his head and chest. 'Take a deep breath... hold it... and let it out. You're making an excellent recovery.'

'I have a robust constitution.'

'And the best doctor.'

'I've always enjoyed _your_ robust confidence.'

Julian put the instruments on the bedside table and stretched out beside him, head propped up on his hand. 'Your breathing's easier and your fever's almost gone. I'm very pleased with myself, and with you. How's the book?'

'Rather good. I like Ms Rendell's eye for detail - and this game with the book ciphers sounds like something you might have played as a boy.'

'I only wish I'd thought of it. It's such a brilliant scheme.'

'So far it all seems rather innocent, though.'

'It will be anything but innocent by the end. You wait and see.'

Garak marked his place. 'But if I'm going to lose you soon to my good health, I shouldn't waste this time reading.'

'You don't have to lose me at all. Remember that.'

Garak set down the padd and turned on his side, mirroring Julian's posture. 'I keep thinking of it. Believe me, it is terribly tempting.'

'We could wake up together, begin our day... you'd come home to me, or I to you, depending on our schedules... we'd take care of each other, whatever happened.'

'I'm surprised you don't say you'd meet me for lunch too.'

'I don't want you to get fed up with me. Why, sometimes I'll take a little trip away just so you can miss me.'

'Where would you go?'

'Probably Earth, to visit the O'Briens.'

'You know, I do, sometimes, get just a tiny bit jealous of you with Mr O'Brien. You're very devoted to him.'

'It's mutual. But you don't need to fret; Miles is both the most monogamous and the most straight person in the universe.'

'But you're so ridiculously attractive... and attractively ridiculous.'

'I will be as faithful as the day is long.'

'That could just mean you'll have affairs in winter.'

'In winter, I'll curl up with you under a blanket.'

'In a sauna.'

'For you, yes.'

'You know, don't you... you're likely to outlive me by a substantial margin.'

'Very serious, suddenly.' Julian's face registered faint dismay.

'I think it's important to be realistic. Our time may not be as long as you'd hope.'

'I think it's all the more reason to make as much of my time with you as I can. And, of course, to take very good care of you to make sure you have the longest and healthiest life possible.'

'I think I would have to have another personal physician, you know, for appearances' sake.'

'Of course. But you would have me as a back-up. Oh! I know. I could grow a beard. Just for you.'

Garak laughed reluctantly. 'What a tempting incentive.'

'A lovely scruffy beard. To tickle you.'

'It's actually the scratching I like.'

'I will scratch you to your heart's content.'

'And what about when I disappoint you? When I drive you mad?'

'I'll shout at you, and you'll shout at me, and sooner or later we'll make up, because we love each other.'

'You have such... touching faith.'

'Will you give it a chance? A trial period? Say... three months?'

'Earth months or Cardassian months?'

'Whichever is longer,' Julian said quickly, and smiled sweetly.

'I'm still thinking about it. I agree to nothing as yet.'

'Don't be afraid of the possibility that this will be wonderful. That together we'll have a glorious life.'

'I'm not in the least _afraid_ of that.'

'I think you are, though. I think you're afraid because you don't believe you deserve it. Quite possibly you don't. But do I, do you think? Deserve to be happy?'

'Unless you have more and darker secrets than your sharply tailored DNA, yes, certainly.'

'And that happiness is in your gift.'

'That is the most impressively manipulative proposal I have ever heard.'

'I thought you'd like it!' Julian beamed.

'Ask me again tomorrow. I'm tired now.'

'Sleep well, my darling.' Julian pressed his forehead to Garak's, turned his head to kiss his lips, and let him be.

 

* * *

 

Julian was trying to seem more confident than he felt, not to look desperate. There was such an ache in his chest at the thought that Garak would say no. He didn't want to be alone again. The whole community of the station from the old days had broken up and scattered. He felt left behind. Kira was still there, of course, fierce and brave and sad, and Quark, as Quark as ever. Ezri had transferred away. He had had several short-lived flings with, yes, dabo girls, and a couple with men visiting the station, which had been fun, but only fun, rather hollow fun. He didn't know anyone now who would play battles or expeditions with him in the holosuite, and going to Vic's just made him miss the others more.

O'Brien was a wonderful friend, but a terrible penpal. His letters were short and functional. Julian would ask him open-ended questions that he hoped would draw him out into detailed, reflective answers, and get concise and simple ones, straight to the point. It was getting to the stage where he was thinking of suggesting to O'Brien that he have his engineering cadets work on improvements to that long-range holographic communications technology that had finally enabled contact with the _Voyager_ out in the Delta Quadrant, just so that they could have a game of darts in the same virtual room.

He knew Garak wasn't the answer to his problems. He knew he needed to make some new friends, difficult as it now was to connect with people who hadn't been through similar wartime experiences. But he badly needed there to be someone just for him, someone who already knew and understood and didn't have to be told; the thought of those conversations, of trying to explain himself to someone new, was exhausting. And with Garak, there was that old connection, that old love, and that deep attraction that was still so strong. Being close to him again felt so wonderfully safe and warm and good; making love to him again, if only incompletely, and feeling their mutual desire... surely this was enough, at least for a start.

Garak was sleeping, immobile on his back, hands loosely folded over his stomach, face still as stone. He looked thin, and Julian wondered how much of that was weight loss from the recent fever, and how much was overwork. He wanted his solid, sturdy Garak back, wanted to feel his arms strong and firm around him. To be honest, he wanted to feel that Garak could overpower him again, that he would be able to hold him down and, well, ravish him. He missed his dominant older man. Garak liked to say things like 'I'm no longer young' and 'you may outlive me,' but he thought he actually did that as self-deprecation, misdirection - true, he wasn't young, but he wasn't anywhere near old, and he really did have a strong constitution. Early middle age? He could do early middle age, or, haha, let early middle age do him. They weren't May and December. Maybe June and September.

He wandered around Garak's small house, getting in the housekeeper's way as she tidied. She was a thin woman called Inta who was extremely grateful to have a steady and respectable job. She was a war widow with three children of her own and two more of her dead brother's. Her sister-in-law was dependent on her too, paraplegic and brain damaged, injured protecting her children in the final bombardment; was there anything he could do for her as a doctor? He said, carefully, that he would have to examine her sister-in-law before he had any idea about that, inwardly wincing at the thought of trying to do anything for such severe historic injuries. She thought Minister Garak was absolutely wonderful, a true gentleman, cultured and intelligent and a natural ruler - leader, she corrected herself - and he had been extremely kind, helping the eldest two children find after-school jobs and sorting out a problem with pension payments, so that she could draw her sister-in-law's as well, since the poor thing didn't understand what was going on.

'You know he was in the Obsidian Order,' he said, a little puzzled by her admiration.

'Well, they only took the best,' Inta said as if that settled it.

He wandered back to the bedroom and lay beside Garak, watching him sleep, wondering how to be with him when he woke up. Should he try to be seductive? That might just annoy him, if he felt pressured. If there was seducing done, he should probably let Garak be the one to do it, to let him feel strong and dominant again. That would mean waiting for him to feel better. He wanted so much to get closer, to lay his leg over Garak's and put his head on his shoulder, but maybe it was too soon for that.

He settled for slipping his hand under Garak's, interlacing their fingers, watching him sleep and trying to calculate odds on all this working out. Too many unknowns and unknowables, too many variables. Better not to tell Garak he was thinking in those terms; he would probably just call him a Vulcan again. As if that were such an insult.

Garak's eyelids flickered, and he took a deeper breath in, then let it slowly out. A moment later, he opened his eyes.

'Hallo, dear.'

'Hello... I hope you haven't been there the whole time. It must be very dull for you.'

'I've had a nice chat to Inta. How do you feel?'

'Mm... not too bad. Much easier to breathe now, and my throat isn't sore any longer.'

'Isn't modern medicine wonderful?'

'You are wonderful.' A light squeeze of his hand. 'My Julian.'

'Oh, am I?' That was extremely encouraging.

'Very much so. So why, dearest boy, do you want to throw yourself away here? You could go anywhere and do anything.'

'Here is the only place with someone who calls me "dearest boy".'

'But it would be so easy to find another. You are handsome, intelligent, charming, an excellent and devoted lover...'

'I don't want to find another. I've found _you_. Please, please, don't think of reasons why we shouldn't. Think of all the reasons why we should. We're _both_ highly intelligent. We each need a partner who can provide intellectual stimulation, a partnership of equals. I don't know anyone who _challenges_ me as you do.'

'She's out there, you only have to find her. Go and look in the universities, the academies.'

'Why should it be a she?'

'Don't you want to have children?'

'Not particularly! Do you think I want to pass on the stigma of genetic engineering?'

'You could adopt children.'

' _We_ could adopt children.'

'I don't want any.'

'I don't need any. Perfect! Moving on, the best sex I've ever had in my life has been with you. It's been fierce and tender and sweet and rough and it has never, ever been dull. You satisfy me completely, but I've never felt that I've had enough of you. Why would I turn away from that?'

'It's just sex, dear.'

'I know you don't mean that, though. There's no "just" about it. Not between us.'

'You will never be accepted here. No matter how much I love you. You will always be "that human, that Starfleet doctor, that Federation man." Interloper. Infiltrator. _Spy._ '

Julian laughed; he couldn't help it. 'Spy! Wonderful. I just hope I wear it as well as you did.'

'Julian. You want everyone you meet to be your friend. How will you live with being distrusted and despised?'

'I will live it down. I'll win them over. And I will have _you._ And let's not forget good old Miles. Inta seems to like me well enough, too!'

'Inta's an innocent. What if the situation between the Federation and Cardassia turns nasty again? What will you do then? Where will your loyalties lie?'

'I'll do what I believe is right, and that will be determined by my conscience, not my citizenship.'

'Oh, Julian... we really do come from different worlds.'

'Don't fall back on clichés.'

'All right. Your _Weltanschauüng_ and mine appear incompatible.'

'A, twaddle; B, speak some more German, it's terribly sexy.'

'I can't remember any more except _Bildungsroman_ and _realpolitik._ '

'I love you so much, Elim.'

'You're off topic.'

'But I'm on message. Have I told you how much I love the name Elim? There was an old church called Elim down the road from my primary school. On Earth, it means a watering place or oasis. A place to refresh one's spirits, metaphorically.'

'Well, that doesn't suit me at all. I'm not religious or refreshing.'

'So what? Julian means downy-bearded. I'm wiry-bearded. It's still a nice name. What's in a name, as my near-namesake wondered?'

'Speaking of namesakes, I've always meant to ask you. When you gave me that _1984_ book to read. Were you trying to give me some sort of veiled message? Because it has characters called Julia, and O'Brien? Were you trying to say you saw me as Winston Smith?'

'Not in the least. The names are a coincidence. But I did think you'd probably see the parallels with Cardassian society. Would you betray me if they put your head into a cage of rats?'

'I'm not afraid of rats - but I'm not stupid enough to let my face be put in reach of biting animals. Sorry, Julia. On the other hand, I have had extensive training in resisting the most forceful of interrogation techniques. So who knows? I might have survived the Ministry of Love. I might have run the place.'

'I just can't believe that. Now tell me, dear, who else can you have a really good, hard literary argument with?'

'You are unscrupulous.'

'Yep!'

'Incorrigible.'

'Yep!'

'Stop saying yep, you sound like a half-wit.' There was a wonderful, dangerous glint in his eye now.

'Can you make me?' Julian challenged him.

' _You_ are looking for _trouble_ , aren't you?' Garak shook his head, smiling. 'I'd love to try, but I would end up coughing all over you.'

'Damn,' Julian said ruefully. He rolled onto his back and laced his hands behind his head. 'I almost had you.'

'I, dear, would have had _you_.'

'I can't wait. Do you know how long it's been since I was really... _well_... fucked?' The words were only just out of his mouth when he was pinned, Garak rolling on top of him, kissing him so hard he thought his lips were bruised.

'Is that what you want?'

'Yes... so much...'

Garak sighed, sadly, rolling back, subsiding. 'You really do have to wait.'

'Aargh.'

'I'm sorry, my love, but that was far too much effort.' He smothered a cough in his hand.

Julian sat up and pushed his hands through his hair. 'I brought this on myself, I know, but that doesn't make it any easier.'

'Play with yourself. I'll still enjoy watching.'

'I think I want to wait... save up for you.' He got up, straightened his uniform, cleared his throat.

'That would be a noble gesture.'

'First of many, if you say yes.'

'Give it a rest, Julian.'

 

* * *

 

Garak was well aware that he was on the verge of giving in completely. Julian was just too beautiful, too eager and willing, too sweet. He still didn't believe for a minute that it would work... it was just that he was more and more sure that he was going to give in, and they would try, and fail, and probably end up broken men, and he'd take that, because Julian wanted it. 'Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.' He'd assumed Romeo was being a sarcastic little prat when he said that. Not death, of course, it wouldn't do to over-dramatise, but personal ruin was quite possible.

He slept genuinely well that night, with the quilt pulled up to his ears and Julian spooning his back. He knew for a fact that the poor boy didn't like to sleep under such heavy covers, that he was far too hot, sweated through his skivvies and woke up dehydrated, but still, he embraced Garak in his down coccoon. He had never been sure why, with his claustrophobia, he liked to sleep under heavy covers and feel their pressure on his body, but there it was, the great exception, and the pressure and nearness of Julian's body soothed him in the same way. Perhaps the part of his mind that was damaged by being locked up in the dark as a child simply kept itself separate from the older, deeper part that remembered being swaddled as a baby.

He woke early in the morning and simply basked in the warmth, in the firm strength of Julian's chest against his back, his wiry arm around his waist, his stiff cock pressed up to his tailbone, hot and thick and full of proud young life. After a little while he arched his back, giving it a gentle, rocking rub. Julian sighed contentedly and tightened his arm around him, pressed a drowsy kiss to the back of his neck.

'Good morning.'

'Good morning, doctor.'

'Mm... Don't you mean Julian? Or dear? I don't feel very doctorly with you doing that.' He began to move his hips in time with Garak's, pressing another kiss to his nape, sliding his hand inside the waistband of his pyjama bottoms.

'Aren't you examining me?'

'Hrm. Patient is a Cardassian male in his prime. Strong build. Extremely well-developed genitalia, really... really lovely.'

'That isn't medical language.'

'Very healthy erectile function. Umm... nice firm bum.' He slid his hand back over Garak's hip, still inside the waistband, and gave his buttock an open-handed squeeze.

'I don't think you're a real doctor. You've been bluffing everyone all this time.'

'I'm good, aren't I? Do you want me to slip it in?'

'Just between my legs, please.'

'Mmm... give me some of your goo, then.' He tugged Garak's pants down around his thighs, slicked his erection and slipped it between them. 'Squeeze me.' His wet hand curled around Garak's cock, gently milking. They rolled together slowly, Julian covering Garak's nape with sliding, sucking kisses. 'You feel so very very good, my darling.'

Garak moaned, the pleasure rising from deep in his belly, the sheer comfort of being physically loved by Julian again making his nose and eyes sting and prickle. That gentle, _clever_ hand cupping and caressing his balls, making them churn with delight, working up and down his shaft, drawing him deeper and deeper, slow, lazy, inch-by-inch morning love. He tensed his thighs shut on Julian's surging cock, felt his breathing quicken, his hips squirm and grind.

'My Elim... oh, God... oh, I love you. I _love_ you.' Pumping faster now, hand and cock, mouth panting wetly against his back, biting his pyjama collar.

'Julian... oh...' Quakes of bliss and shooting heat and utter relief. He lay gloriously exhausted and felt Julian's spasms, spattering his inner thighs. Julian quivered into stillness, still lightly stroking him, cheek pressed to his shoulder.

'I could do that for you every morning,' he breathed. 'Or wake you up with my mouth... suck your precious cock... I'd take such good care of you.'

'You don't need to convince me of that, dear. None of my qualms are based on your ability to please me.'

'And please you, and please you... please...' His hand grew still too, and he dozed off, a sweet weight against Garak's back. Garak lay in his arms drowsily contented, warm down to the marrow of his bones, as warm as he had felt on their island holiday. He remembered Julian then, gorgeous and callow, and thought of Julian now, someone he had to admit he couldn't feel as _purely_ safe with. He had been perversely hurt that Julian hadn't confided in him about the genetic enhancements, given that there were dozens, hundreds of things he hadn't confided to him and had absolutely no wish to do so. He had always thought there was something, a layer underneath, but now he thought there could be many more layers than he'd ever seen. Those wonderful eyes still held unlimited sweetness but there was a little darkness in their depths too. Julian had become a man in the time he'd known him, and he, Garak, had influenced the kind of man he'd become.

He gradually became more wakeful, and eased out of bed, hitching up his pants as he made his way to the bathroom. He could urinate standing now, which was a vast improvement; it had made him feel pathetic to need to sit down, but he'd been so weak and shaky that he would either have fallen over or missed the toilet entirely.

He stretched and considered himself in the mirror. Improving. Not quite the dapper fellow he'd like to see, but not a haggard wreck any more, even in dishevelled and sticky pyjamas. He felt vastly better this morning, his head clear, his breathing easy, his muscles relaxed and steady. He ran a bath, and went so far as to hum to himself while it filled. He had been soaking for a few minutes when Julian wandered in, sleepy-eyed and rumpled.

'Does it bother you if I pee in your presence?' he asked politely.

'I'm fairly sure you have before.'

'That was years ago, though. I thought it was prudent to ask again, just in case your attitude had changed.'

'Go ahead, dear. Quite all right.'

'Thank you.' He relieved himself with a sigh, flushed the toilet and washed his hands.

'Very good. I appreciate your cleanliness.'

'Next to godliness.' Julian shrugged out of his undershirt and kicked away his shorts. 'May I get in?'

'Be warned, it's very hot.'

'You're not joking.' Julian dipped a foot in at the far end of the bath and withdrew it quickly. 'You must be boiling.' He cautiously tried again, lowering his foot by stages, then introducing the other, inching his way down into the steaming water while Garak smirked at his winces and gasps.

'Nice?'

'Lovely,' Julian said with a smile-grimace. He stretched out his legs and arranged them around Garak's. 'I'm turning red under the waterline. Look at it.'

'I hardly need an invitation to look at you. But I do love it when you turn red.' He ran his hands up Julian's legs from ankle to knee and back down.

'Someone's feeling better, I suspect.'

'Much better, and yes, it's thanks to you.' He kept his hands moving, the water rustling softly.

'A professional and personal triumph.'

'You must be proud.'

'Profoundly.' Julian smiled like a cat being tickled under its chin.

'How do _you_ feel?'

'Fit as a fiddle.'

'I'm glad to hear it. You know, tomorrow I'll need to go back to work and so will you, but I feel I can give you today. Turn around and scoot back, please - I want to hold you.'

Julian settled against him with a sigh, turned his head and kissed Garak's cheek. 'Can you tell me whether I should go back to stay? Or go back to make arrangements to join you here?' He nuzzled at the ridges that curved from his ear along the edge of his jaw.

'Could you ask... for a leave of absence? Three months? Cardassian months,' he added, squeezing Julian's shoulders, 'which are longer.'

'Oh, _love._ Thank you. Thank you, you'll never regret it.' A beaming, boyish smile.

'I am abominably weak and sentimental. This will be the ruin of me.'

'You're going to be so, so happy in these three months. Oh - we're counting the three months from when I come back, not from today.'

'I won't try to cheat you.'

'Shall we have a drink to celebrate?' He twisted around onto his hip and wrapped his arms around Garak's shoulders.

'We haven't had breakfast yet, dear.'

'Shall we have breakfast to celebrate?'

'I haven't finished my bath.' Garak wrapped his arm around Julian's waist and kissed him firmly. 'Stay put.'

'Yes, dear.' He twisted back on his bottom and leaned against Garak, head tipped back, gazing up at him.

'Ah, the adoring look. You use that very well.' He ran his fingertips up and down Julian's neck, collarbone to chin, admiring his golden skin and the long curve of his throat.

'It's very sincere.'

'And so enticing.' He stroked across Julian's collarbones, trailing one fingernail over flushed, dewy skin, watching him shiver with pleasure and anticipation. 'Sincere or not, you're doing it on purpose.'

'I admit it. Ow!'

'I've missed pinching you. Your nipples are as pretty as ever.'

'Soon they'll be as sore as ever. Go easy.'

'Poor Julian. Are you regretting this already?'

'Certainly not. Just be careful so you don't wear me out too soon.' He bit his lip as Garak pinched harder.

'I'm going to fuck you today,' Garak whispered in his ear, and gently bit the lobe.

'Oh, God, yes.'

'Where would you like it? Bath, bed, floor?'

'Bed's best.'

'How unadventurous of you.'

'Bed is soft; bath and floor are hard, and bath is slippery too.'

'Ah - you're concerned for my safety?'

'Mine too. Bruises are okay but I don't want broken bones.'

'Your beautiful bones have nothing to fear from me.' He ran his hands up and down Julian's chest, his stomach, over his narrow hips. 'Your body feels so defenceless somehow. And yet I know you're really quite strong.'

'Well, I don't need defences from you.'

'Mmm.' A deep, contented grunt; he closed both arms around Julian's waist and squeezed him tight. 'Good. Get up now, dear.'

Julian got out of the bath, swayed and caught himself against the wall. 'Oops. Hold on.'

'What's wrong?' Garak stepped out beside him and offered his arm.

'Get out of a hot bath quickly... blood pressure drops... dizzy,' Julian said vaguely, leaning on him. 'At least I didn't faint.'

'It would have been nostalgic if you did. I don't know how you're going to cope here in summer.'

'I'll acclimatise. I'll wear a sarong,' Julian said with a wry smile.

'If you're dizzy you should lie down.'

'Yes, please.' He slung his arms around Garak's shoulders and kissed him avidly. Between kisses he was gradually backed across the bathroom and bedroom and pushed onto the bed, Garak climbing on top of him and drawing his arms up over his head.

'I feel so much better.'

'Scootch up.'

'Yes...' He hitched himself higher on the bed, wrapping his legs around Garak's waist as he lay down on him and filled his mouth with fierce, greedy kisses. One strong hand held his wrists together, almost tight enough to hurt. His heart was pounding, his lips were burning and he could not stop himself whimpering with eagerness and need, rubbing the soles of his feet up and down the backs of Garak's legs.

'What do you want, dear?'

'Want you...'

'In detail...'

'I want your cock, I want your big, hard cock, I want it jammed up into me... please...'

'Oh, do you like my cock?' He was sliding the head of it up and down the cleft of Julian's buttocks, nudging, teasing.

'I love it. Please.'

'Have you missed it?'

'So, so much.'

'In here?' A heavy nudge.

'Yes!'

'It doesn't hurt, does it? You sound a bit pained.' He drew back, blue eyes mocking him.

' _Please_ put it in.'

'Why do you like it so much?'

'Oh, God!'

'Tell me, or nothing for you.'

'I love it because it - it fills me, and it stretches me, and it rubs on my prostate so hard I think I'm going to burst. I don't just love that... I love you on top of me, and in me, and your tongue in my mouth, and I need you so much. Please!'

'It's all right... don't get upset.'

'Ple-he-hease.'

'Here it is.'

'Oh!'

'Good?'

'Oh God...'

'Yes?'

'Yes, yes, so good, _please_ fuck me!' Then they were rolling together, Garak was sliding and surging inside him, he was squeezing down on him, huge and hard and making him quiver and cry out, frantic. Garak would pound him up to the edge and then ease up, slowly stroking, until he was shaking with the tension and plunged in again, thrusting so hard the bed shook and clattered against the wall, riding him until they both came helplessly.

For a while neither of them could move except to suck air. Garak gradually released his grip on Julian's wrists, felt his legs slide down. 'That wasn't too hard, was it?' he breathed. He rested his forehead on the bed, over Julian's shoulder.

'No,' Julian whispered. 'Just what I needed.'

'I may have overdone it. I don't think I can move.'

'I'll just hold you till you recover.' Julian wrapped his arms around him, stroking his back.

'I don't deserve you.'

'Luckily, life isn't fair.' Julian turned his head and nuzzled at Garak's cheek. 'I'm yours.'

'And I'm yours.'

 

* * *

 

Dear Miles,

I have to tell you something, and I'm not sure whether your reaction will be surprise, or to roll your eyes and say 'No kidding.'

Garak and I are in love. I'm going to live with him on Cardassia Prime. I know this may sound mad to you, but I really do believe that we can be happy together. I've made arrangements to work with the Federation medical aid mission, based at the capital's main hospital. It's going to be hard work, but it will be worth it to be with him - and it's good old frontier medicine. I hope you can just be happy for us.

I'm writing in haste because I have to pack and get on the transport. Wish me luck!

Affec'ly,

Julian

Julian,

No kidding!

Miles

Dear Miles,

Not fair. :(

Julian.

Julian,

All right, sorry about that, I just thought it was funny. I'm happy for you, as long as you're happy. Can't pretend I understand, but that's not the point. I hope you really like Cardassian food. I can't stick it myself.

I thought something like this might happen but it was your business to tell me or not.

Anyway, I hope he appreciates you, and he's never seemed to mind how much you talk so maybe you're right.

I've attached a drawing Molly did of you healing the sick and injured Cardies. You're the tall skinny thing with the eyelashes. She's good, isn't she!

Cheers,

Miles

 

* * *

 

Garak was not sure how he felt about his new domestic arrangements. There were many things about them that should make him happy, but they were just so strange, so completely foreign to him. He came home from the Ministry after a busy day to find that Julian had closed the blinds, lit the lamps, put on quiet music and opened a bottle of wine. It was downright cosy.

'Hello,' Julian said, beaming at him and offering him a glass, along with a kiss on the cheek. 'Good day?'

'Yes, quite successful.' He looked doubtfully at the wine. 'I don't mean to be rude, but what's this?'

'Sauvignon blanc. Would you believe my father made it?'

'As ever, not meaning to be rude, I thought your father was in prison.'

'That was only for two years. They sent him to New Zealand. In prison on Earth, they like people to do something useful, learn a skill. He chose to do a course on viticulture. He so impressed the instructor that when he got out he offered him a job. So now he works in a vineyard in the Hawkes Bay, and he actually seems to have finally found his niche. Look at this - this wine won a silver medal.' He showed Garak the label.

'It's impressive,' he said politely, although he really didn't like the taste. He thought he should just talk to Julian as if they were having lunch together, spending ordinary time together, but everything felt different. 'And - your day?'

'Wonderful! I'm getting to know everyone at the hospital. It's interesting, because it's the first time I've started at a new place while in a relationship. So there's been the usual flurry of interest, ooh, a new doctor, ooh, he looks nice - but it's quite different on my side.'

'Because you're _not_ taking advantage of your novelty value to squire a different nurse every night?'

'That's a trifling exaggeration. Anyway, my point is, now I just say "Thank you, but I'm spoken for." I smile sweetly. And I go home to you. There's novelty value! Also, my trunk came today. They finally worked out where they'd sent it to. So my t __hings have had a nice little side trip to _Tellar_ Prime.' He walked over towards the sofa, leaving Garak standing awkwardly holding his glass, feeling as if he had wandered in like a stray, to a world of comfort and domesticity that had little to do with him - even though this was his sitting room, and his sofa, a plain but quite comfortable model from one of the new factories, and his recycled-wood table that Julian was putting his feet up on as he sat and smiled at him, patting the seat beside him.

'Come on, dear. You're at home.'

'And yet, in some ways I am not.' Garak sat down beside him, carefully. 'This will take some getting used to.'

'I assure you, I'm very nice to live with. I know it's only been a couple of days, but you'll see.' He rubbed Garak's knee affectionately. 'After dinner, I want to check with you where it's all right to put my clothes from the trunk.'

'Anywhere you like. There's room in the wardrobe and the drawers, I think.'

'There are some bulky things. Costumes. Big coats, and so on.'

'Why did you bring costumes with you?'

'Well, they're mine, and I like them. Besides, you never know when there'll be an occasion to dress up as a fighter pilot or a Celtic warrior or a Caribbean pirate.'

'You amaze me.'

'To cheer up the children at the hospital, for example.'

'Perhaps you could put your clothes for _real life_ in the wardrobe and the drawers, and keep the costumes in the trunk?'

'How about my secret agent suits?' Julian flicked his eyebrows at him.

'The tuxedo is welcome.'

'Ah, you like the tuxedo.'

'I admit I like the tuxedo.'

'How about my dress uniform?'

'No. That makes you look like a waiter.'

'You are harsh in your judgements sometimes.'

'A very attractive waiter. One who'd get lots of tips.'

'Oh, that's much kinder.' Julian sipped his wine. 'I'm amazed my father has made something I like.'

'Did you bring much with you?'

'A case. Twelve bottles. Proper wine from real grapes, matured in real barrels of real wood,then sealed in real bottles made of real glass made from real sand.'

'Are you going to turn into one of those real food cranks?'

'No. Dinner's in the replicator. It just caught the light, sitting there, and I thought it was rather a marvellous, faraway artifact. I was going to say corks of real cork, too, but they're screwtops.'

'I think I prefer kanar.'

'See if you like the taste better this way.' Julian kissed him softly, slipping his tongue between his lips.

'Still don't care for the wine. Still very fond of you.'

'We'll find something we both like to drink together.'

'Do we need to? Why not just have wine and kanar side by side?'

'I like to share.'

'We share a bed. Very agreeably. Ah! And we share a pot of tea in the morning.'

'That's a good point. We should go on doing that.' Julian squeezed his knee again. 'Have I told you lately how proud of you I am, my Minister of Reconstruction? We saw you on the news today at work, re-opening that school. He's my friend, I told the nurses gathered around the screen. Ooh, they said.'

'Just "my friend"?'

'Yes, as we agreed, I am just referring to you as my friend, with whom I am staying. No reference to love, or to where I sleep, or to how gorgeous I think you are.' He slid his hand higher, gently rubbing circles on Garak's thigh.

'Or to how affectionate and demonstrative you are.'

'Or to how many love-bites I have under my clothes.'

'You could always heal them up.'

'I don't want to. When I feel them ache I feel close to you.' Fingers kneading at his inner thigh.

'You're a strange boy.'

'Well. I did get rid of the bruises on my wrists. They might have inspired questions.'

'I don't want anyone to think I abuse you.'

'Firstly, I know you wouldn't. Secondly, if you ever... got possessed by a pah wraith or something and did, I would leave without delay.'

'You wouldn't stay and try to exorcise me?'

'Not on my own!' Julian laughed.

'That's very sensible.'

'Strange but sensible. I hope you like that combination.' He put down his glass and twisted towards Garak, put his arm around his shoulders, his other hand on his thigh, massaging higher.

'That's a very flirty look you're giving me, my dear.'

'You say flirty, I say... amorous, and seductive. Much better words.'

'And such a beautiful voice to say them.'

'Mm... thank you.' Julian leaned in for a kiss, his hand squeezing up between Garak's legs, cupping over the warm bulge and massaging it. His tongue ventured deeper, softly swirling, and he pressed in close, breathing in and out slowly and deeply, his breath tickling Garak's cheek.

'I take it you're _trying_ to make me hard.'

'I'm succeeding. Feel that! Glorious. May I let it out?'

'You may.' He slipped his hand behind Julian's head, drew him in and kissed him as he unbuttoned his trousers and slipped his hand inside, freeing his stiffening cock. He stroked it firmly and confidently, bringing it to full hardness, getting the juices flowing.

'Gorgeous. I want to suck it. May I?'

'So polite. You may.'

'Thank you, dear.' A sweet kiss with just the faintest hint of amusement behind it. Julian got to his knees on the floor, between Garak's feet, bent over his lap and drew him into the lush wet warmth of his mouth. He gripped the fabric of Garak's trousers, pinching them together with his underwear, pulled them down further and nuzzled in, taking him as deeply as he could, a hungry moan low in his throat humming through Garak's engorged flesh.

'Ohh...' Garak tilted his hips, pushing upward, gripping Julian's hair as pleasure rolled through him. 'Oh, dear Julian, how well you do that! Who taught you?' Julian pinched his thigh for that, drawing back and polishing the tender head with his tongue, gazing up at him. 'I'm going to fuck your mouth, dear, just gently, all right?'

'Mm.' Sucking him in again, letting him bounce his hips up and down, Garak holding his head. Julian's hands kept kneading at his thighs, wetness dripping from his lips and drizzling down over his balls.

'That's so good, so good, so, oh, oh I love... oh my love.' He moaned blissfully, feeling his desire and delight mounting to a peak and bursting through. He closed his eyes and let his head loll against the sofa back as he caught his breath, feeling little twitches run through his muscles, feeling Julian lick him clean. He ruffled Julian's hair, rubbing over the top of his head.

'That was beautiful... but you've left yourself out. I've got nothing left to fuck you with.'

'You've got your fingers.' Julian rose up and kissed him, sucking at his lower lip, letting him taste himself.

'All right. Bed?'

'Yes, please.'

They were tangled together and squirming out of the last of their clothes when Julian said 'Wait a minute.'

'Something wrong?'

'No, just - wait a minute.' He pushed Garak off and rolled off the bed, going over to the open trunk he had moved up against the wall.

'I'm not doing anything with costumes,' Garak said, sitting up and shaking his hair back from his forehead. 'I am a broad-minded man, but some things are... weird.'

'Perhaps. How do you feel about gadgets?' Julian was rummaging through layers of stuff.

'It depends. Anything too elaborate just puts me off.'

'Because you're plain, simple Garak,' Julian said, smiling impishly at him over his shoulder.

'Well, why should sex be complicated? Shouldn't our own bodies be enough for almost anything?'

'Is that why you've never used handcuffs or anything like that? You always just use sheets or pillowcases or my shirts, whatever comes to hand, to tie me up.'

'Once you buy handcuffs, bang goes the spontenaiety. They just sit there, _expecting_ to be used. It creates a sense of _obligation_. I would much rather improvise restraints as and when required. Besides, that takes more creativity, and I enjoy the challenge.' He pulled off his last sock and threw it to the floor.

'I see.' Julian dug out a drawstring bag and came back to bed. 'How do you feel about something like this?'

'Good grief. Is that the thing you claim is like me?'

'It is like you. That's why I like it so much.'

'It's blue. Do you wish I were Andorian?'

'God, no. Have you _seen_ an Andorian's cock? They're all bristly. Blue's just the default colour for this material, and how it feels matters a lot more than how it looks.'

'When have you seen an Andorian's cock, dear?'

'Purely in a medical context. I don't want anything like that inside me. I want a smooth sleek cock like yours, with a big head and a thick shaft and lovely ridge-y ribs that tickle me on the way in and out.'

'So you'd like me to try to please you with this?'

'It vibrates too, if you press here.'

'You hardly need me.'

'I always, _always_ need you.' Julian shook a tube out of the bag. 'You make your own lubricant, of course, which is another reason to love you.'

'All right. Lie down on your side. That's good... knees up.' He ran his hand over Julian's buttocks, admiring their smooth taut curves, sliding his thumb down between them, parting and stroking the cleft. 'Good?'

'Mm...' Julian closed his eyes contentedly, hugging a pillow.

'Hold still.' He planted a warm, wet kiss behind Julian's balls, licked with quick, flicking strokes of his tongue, working along to the twitching pucker, sealing his lips to it, sucking, delving in with his tongue-tip. That drew a deep, joyful groan. He took his time, slipping his forefinger in to hold his place while he licked down over Julian's balls and traced the length of his cock, travelling up and down, enjoying how strongly salty he tasted by the end of the day.

'Will you put it in?'

'Let me get it ready for you.'

'Ohh...' Julian arched his back as the shaft slid in.

'This is interesting.'

'Mm?'

'I can watch exactly how you react, in a way that I can't if I'm - involved. Roll on your back, dear.'

Julian obeyed him, lying on his back with his legs spread and lifted, his arms folded over his head, his face a picture of desire with eyes closed, lips parted, a hectic flush in his cheeks. Garak kept his hand on the flared base of the toy, holding it in as deep as it would go, and bent over to kiss his neck, running his tongue down over his Adam's apple to the notch at the base of his throat, nipping at his collarbones. He slid it in in and out as he descended, pausing to dig in Julian's navel and making him sigh.

Garak rocked back on his heels to watch Julian a little, seeing how he breathed, deep and gusty, how his tongue flickered over his lips, how the smooth muscles of his belly and buttocks and thighs tensed and quivered, how his toes twitched and tried to grip the sheet under him. His cock was arched up against his belly, dusky red and twitching from the base with the movement inside him. There were fading love-bites all over his inner thighs, purple shading to brown and yellow.

'You're calmer than when I'm in you,' he noted.

'Well... so are you...'

'I would hope so.' Experimentally, he pressed the indentation in the base of the toy and felt it begin to buzz. Julian grunted and bit his lip, lifting his bottom from the bed. 'All right?'

'Push it again, it goes faster. Oh! Oh...'

'How does that feel?'

'Like - ah! - it - like I'm going to melt.'

'Don't melt yet.' He nudged Julian's knees further apart, bent between them and licked the length of his erection. Julian's hips jolted and shook and he began to whimper, breathing faster, starting to pant in earnest as Garak sucked him in and began to bob his head.

'Oh God! Elim!'

'Mmm...' He hoped Julian could hear the utter smug satisfaction he felt. He sucked harder, gripping the base of his cock, just to make sure he wouldn't come quite yet, and enjoyed the shivering and squirming and the absurd little joy-sounds, squeaks and croaks and bitten-off swear-words.

'All right...'

'Oh, don't stop!'

'I just wanted to ask you, dear, if you would rather I took you the rest of the way with the imitation or the real cock. I've recovered.'

'God, yes! Fuck me.'

'You should see how your eyes lit up. That's very, very gratifying.' He drew out the dildo, took himself in hand and slid into its place, rolling forward to rest on his elbows over Julian's body.

'Aaah...' Julian wrapped his arms around him and pulled him down into a deep sucking kiss, locking his legs around his waist, embracing Garak in every way he could. The utter _love_ of it took him through about seven levels of arousal in as many seconds; all his calm and control were gone, all his careful technique, and he simply kissed and fucked blindly, grunting like an animal. Julian came against his belly with a hoarse cry; he couldn't stop until the final joyful spasm.

'Ohhh...' Julian slumped beneath him, his legs sliding down and sprawling out to the sides. 'My darling, you are wonderful.' Garak could only groan at this stage, but he moved his head and kissed his cheek. He lay cradled in Julian's warmth as his heartbeat returned to something approaching normal. This, at least, felt just like home.

'I'd like to have done that more slowly,' he mumbled.

'Maybe you can later.'

'You want _more?'_

Julian laughed softly. 'No, but I can imagine that eventually I will.'

'When we first began I was concerned that I would wear _you_ out.'

'Well, I dare say this honeymoon intensity won't last forever, but I want to enjoy every bit of it while it does.' Julian kissed the tip of his nose. 'Just imagine. We're going to get used to living together. We'll get into routines. Speaking of which, enjoy me in the evenings this week, because next week I'm on nights.'

'I suppose I can work late then.'

'Not too late. If you're still up when I get home there'll be a reckoning.'

'You wouldn't like me to wait up for you?'

'No.'

'I wasn't going to anyway.' Garak eased himself off and onto his back, stretching out. 'Oh... speaking of your work, there was something I meant to tell you, before you distracted me.'

'Mm?' Julian pushed himself up on his elbows.

'It'll be announced at some stage in the next couple of days. There's been some... pressure from prominent citizens. To avoid any appearance of an _occupation_ , Federation aid personnel on Cardassia are _requested_ to wear civilian clothes.'

'That's a bit rich. An occupation?'

'It's a sensitive subject.'

'We're here to _help.'_

'Do you really wonder that Cardassians... _prominent_ Cardassians... should suspect the Federation of using the sort of underhanded strategem their predecessors would?'

'If we were here to take over, I don't see how making us wear civvies would help.'

'It wouldn't, but it's a symbolic sop to their feelings. And, of course, the assurance that you'll all be very closely watched.'

'It's a good thing my trunk came, or I wouldn't have anything to wear.'

'As a further sop, I thought I might run up a couple of nice suits for you - in a Cardassian style.'

'Will you have time?'

'Well, I'll have my evenings free next week.'

 

* * *

 

On the first day of the following week Julian appeared at the Ministry at lunchtime.

'Hallo,' he said, putting his head in around Garak's office doorway. 'I couldn't make myself go to sleep in the day. Can you get away for lunch?'

'I suppose so,' Garak said, looking up from trying to put a dozen different urgent jobs into priority order. 'I can't offer you anything better than the Ministry canteen, though.'

'I can compare it with the hospital canteen. Write a guidebook to Cardassian institutional cuisine,' Julian said cheerfully. He came in and looked around the room, which was lined with shelves and filing cabinets in a perpetual state of use, the edges of the desk stacked with padds.

'This isn't an attempt to make sure I eat, is it? I object to being... mothered.' He managed to decide which application was the lowest priority and moved it to the bottom of the list.

'Well, I did ask your secretary what time you take your lunch break, and he did say that you generally eat at your desk or skip it.'

'Don't do this, Julian; if I wanted a wife, well, I'd look for one.' Second lowest.

'I'm not doing anything, except having lunch with my good friend Minister Garak. Anyway, make your mind up; your mummy or your wife?'

'Pardon?'

'It was a joke. Your money or your life? Sorry, cultural differences. What are you working on there?' He came round behind the desk and craned to look at the computer screen.

'Allocation of resources.'

'Can I have a look? I love fiddling with logistics.'

'You may as well.' He leaned back in his chair as Julian leaned across him to touch the screen. He moved a few things around with quick deft strokes, Garak quietly admiring his hands.

'Now if you take this over here, and save this for next week, and use what's left over from that for this - better?' He turned and smiled hopefully.

'Show-off.'

'I am clever, though.' The smile warmed and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

'Yes, you are. You've earned your lunch.'

They sat at the end of one of the long rickety tables in the canteen, in a corner of the room from which Garak could see but not be approached unawares, though this was less because he feared assassins and more because he was both wary and weary of petitioners. Julian told him about the enigma tale he'd been reading while trying and failing to go to sleep, and the monstrous centipede he had captured in the bathroom and humanely released on the terrace, and kept unobtrusively stroking his ankle with his toe.

He was inoffensively dressed today in one of those crossover-front suits that human men tended to default to, as bland and safe as a uniform. His new suit was at home, pinned together on a tailor's form. There wasn't a great range of locally-made fabrics available these days, but Garak had chosen carefully for good quality and interesting textures. Importing beautiful textiles from offworld would not look good for the Minister of Reconstruction, even if he did it only for himself; if he did it to dress up his foreign lover, it would look quite disastrous.

The foreign lover was chatting happily about the hospital, and his workmates there, and how wrong he thought Garak had been about the xenophobia because he found them all very friendly, when he suddenly stopped and stared across the canteen with his mouth ajar.

'What's the matter?'

'I think I'm seeing a ghost,' Julian said, and tried to point unobtrusively. 'Over by the window. Gul Dukat.'

'Oh? Oh, that's not Dukat.'

'You sound very sure!'

'That's his cousin Gul _Macet._ It's a remarkable resemblance, I agree - though less remarkable when you consider that their mothers and fathers were two sets of identical twins. A grand double society wedding. Macet, though, has a rare genetic mutation, which you'll see in the form of that unusual fungoid growth on his face.'

'It's a beard, Garak.'

'It's a pretty unpleasant-looking beard. And it's really not normal for a Cardassian to be able to grow one. Something of a throwback.'

'You like my beard, though, don't you?'

'It's coming in very nicely. Don't scratch at it.'

'Anyway, what is Macet doing here?'

'He works here. He's a very dutiful fellow. He's no longer a Gul - he renounced that post. And he supports the widow Dukat and her children. There are, of course, rumours about that. Even about the paternity of one or two of the children.' He gave Julian a conspiratorial smile. 'Not, of course, that I would ever cast aspersions on that lady's good name.'

'Dukat isn't a very good name anyway.'

 

* * *

 

Garak had said he wouldn't wait up for him and he didn't, but he did move over for him when he crawled into bed at a very early hour, and let him warm his cold feet on his. When he woke him getting up in the morning, he brought him a cup of tea in bed to make up for it.

'Have you lived with someone before?' Julian asked him, sitting up and doing a careful test-sip. 'You're quite good at it.'

'Never just for fun.' Garak was getting dressed, quickly and neatly.

'Do you remember years ago you said you'd make me pyjamas out of that special mysterious cooling fabric? You never did. I'd like a pair now.'

'Unfortunately, I don't have access to that supplier any more. They were on Betazed, and I'm afraid the business didn't survive the war. Besides, what does a lovely creature like you want with pyjamas?' He threw a smile back over his shoulder as he pulled his boots on, sitting on the side of the bed.

'I broil in this bed,' Julian said, sipping.

'You refrigerated me when you got in last night, so I think it evens up.' Garak got up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. 'Sleep well today.'

'Eat lunch today.'

'I will try.'

 

* * *

 

It was one of those inexplicably quiet nights at the hospital; people seemed not to be giving birth or dying at the usual rate, nor having accidents or hurting each other with much avidity. Julian was working in the emergency department and had plenty of time to chat to his patients. He was getting familiar with the most common problems - a sadly high incidence of malnutrition-related illnesses, and the sort of things that cropped up where people were living under long-term stress and hardship - battered children, women, sometimes men, who wouldn't meet your eyes and made excuses for their fractures and bruises. Drug and alcohol abuse and related injuries. Things were getting better on Cardassia, but they had got pretty bad before they started to pick up, and a lot of people weren't feeling the difference yet.

He treated a small girl for a scald on her arm that he believed was a genuine accident - she also had a cold, and her mother had left a bowl of steaming water on her bedside table to ease her breathing. Reaching out to switch on her lamp, she had knocked the bowl over. The mother was distraught that her effort to treat her child's illness had hurt her, and he had to spend some time calming her down as well as soothing and healing the burn and the cold. She tearfully explained that she hadn't wanted to 'bother' the hospital for something as minor as a cold, and when he said it wasn't a bother at all and it was better to get these things seen to while they _were_ minor, she took that as him chiding her and needed to be calmed down again.

The little girl sat through it all stolidly enough, but giggled when he made her an origami bird with wings that flapped.

Most of the shift was just spent checking up on people he'd admitted earlier and making friends with his colleagues. There were several other doctors from other Federation planets, two Cardassian doctors and a mixed bag of nurses and orderlies, the majority Cardassian. A few of the locals seemed hostile or cold towards him, but most were cautiously open to overtures. He quite liked the only other human doctor, an older woman called Pulaski who turned out to have briefly served on the _Enterprise_ and thoroughly enjoyed swapping Worf Stories. They leaned against the nurses' station drinking hot caffeine and discussing their common acquaintance. Dr Pulaski was fascinated to hear about his encounter with Lieutenant Commander Data, who she hadn't seen in more than ten years.

'To think that an android could actually dream - not just simulate dreaming. He did have a way of surpassing expectations,' Dr Pulaski said.

'I wish I could see him again and see how much further he's progressed. I heard he had an emotion chip installed.'

'Emotion chips, dream programs - it makes you wonder how much of what we think makes us _human_ can be replicated,' she said, shaking her head. 'I'm a lot less sure about that now than I used to be.'

'I find it all fascinating.'

'I find it a little scary at times, but I'm glad you young people are excited about it.'

'Well, maybe more people should be excited about it, and then we could actually have more than one functioning android in the Federation. The only person who seems to publish anything about it is Maddox at the Daystrom, and all he ever seems to have to report is what he's ruled out as _not_ working. And he's got a deactivated one to study!'

'Perhaps you should go and help him,' she said dryly.

'Oh, no. My job is here.'

'And that is a puzzle, Dr Bashir. There's some talk about you, you know.'

'Oh?' he asked innocently.

'Your choice of assignments. You've shown what many people consider a surprising lack of ambition.'

'Well, I was Johnny on the spot for the Dominion War, wasn't I? I don't think I could have done anything like as much good if I'd chosen my first major placement on the basis of ambition - that kind of ambition anyway. I presume you mean going for prestige and influence.'

'And now here you are trying to do good for Cardassia?'

'Well, aren't you too?'

'I'm getting over my fourth divorce. I wanted a complete change.'

'Oh - I'm sorry to hear that.'

'It's quite all right; we're still friends. You would think that one day I'd learn I'm much better at being friends with men than at being married to them. How about you?'

'Never having married anyone, I can't tell yet.'

'Well, before you do, talk about what you expect it to be like. You may find she has something quite different in mind than you do. I got married in my late forties, and six months later found out my new husband wanted to have children! It never occurred to me that he'd expect that at my age - my daughters were nearly grown up.'

'You still could, though, couldn't you?'

'Medically there's no reason why not, even now. I simply didn't want to, I felt I was through that phase of my life. I love my daughters dearly but I've never felt like a motherly woman. I was much more comfortable with them once they got big enough to be fairly independent. More babies? No thank you. Oh, we're on.'

A gurney was pushed through the doors with a bleeding man on it, and they left the conversation for later.

 

* * *

 

He rolled into bed, snuggling up to the reassuring bulk of Garak's back, tucking his hands under his arms and tangling their feet together.

'How do you _get_ so cold?' Garak mumbled. 'Your hands and feet are like ice.'

'I get tired, I get cold. You are soooo warm. Like a hot brick.'

'What about your much-vaunted augmented stamina?'

'Even I have limits. Like a stove. Like my granny's Aga.'

'They have limits, or I'm like that?'

'You're like that.' He nuzzled at the back of Garak's neck. 'I've got the day free tomorrow, and next day, and then I'm back on days for two weeks.'

'Good... good.'

'When do you have a day off?'

'Can't afford a day off.'

'Can't afford _no_ days off. You'll get all run down again. Could you arrange for the day after tomorrow?'

'Conceivably... would you make it worth my while?'

'Conceivably. What's your while worth?' He slid his hand down Garak's stomach and burrowed it into the warmth of his groin.

'Still cold!'

'Only a little bit. Oh, I've missed your lovely big cock. Sorry I've been no good for sex this week. Just couldn't get the times right. Any time I felt ready, you were heading out the door.'

'Flattery of my cock will get you nowhere.'

'How about rubbing it?'

'Mmrrrmmm.'

'Rub-rub-rub.'

'Don't narrate yourself.'

'As I lovingly rub your thrillingly engorged cock, I am filled with pleasurable anticipation of-'

 _'Stop._ And never try to write a dirty story.'

'Oh, so I can't call it turgid, or tumescent, or throbbing, or... um...'

'Must they all start with T?'

'I was on a roll with T. Thick!'

'Thick, at least, is a good simple word. Unpretentious.'

'Ah, then you'd also like stiff, and stout, and...'

'Sturdy, maybe?'

'Stick it in, maybe?'

'Without preliminaries?'

'Preliminaries are always welcome.'

'I don't approve of you waking me while it's still dark,' Garak muttered, rolling over to kiss him. 'So don't make a habit of this.'

'We can have an early night tonight. Call home when you leave the office, and I'll have a bath ready when you get here. You'll like that, and... aah...' His voice fluttered as Garak squeezed him.

They joined together with the minimum of effort, Julian on his back with his legs around Garak's hips, holding him tight, panting against his shoulder, feeling deep hard surges of sweetness in his belly and groin, the roughness of Garak's love, coming with a great shudder of joy and relief. He lay under dry hot body weight, bathed in sweat, limp and quiescent. He fell asleep like that, too deeply to notice when Garak eased off him, kissed his forehead and went to prepare for his day.

 

* * *

 

He woke feeling pleasantly sore and lazy, and took a long and thorough shower. He had those two odd little friction burns on his inner thighs again, the ones that matched the ridges over Garak's hip-bones. He was starting to think he might eventually get a little callus there. He quite liked that idea. Some people wore rings or necklaces to show they were taken, some people had special tattoos or scars; he could have calluses. Not that he could exactly _show_ people these, except by wearing inadvisably short shorts.

He stood back from the bathroom mirror and had a careful look at himself. Hair needed a trim, but not badly. Beard coming in well, would need shaping soon. In decent shape at the moment, although he should find out if there was anything resembling a gym around here, or at least do sit-ups and push-ups at home. He had no idea if Garak would mind if he gained weight, but _he_ would feel unattractive. Something caught his eye, and he leaned closer to the glass. A _grey hair_ in his beard, high on the right near his ear.

'I'm only thirty-six!' he said indignantly to Mirror Julian. He found a pair of tweezers in a drawer and plucked the grey hair out. If nobody else saw it, it didn't happen. A thorough inspection showed no other greys, so he wrote it off as an anomaly and went and got dressed.

After breakfast he sat down and wrote a nice long chatty letter to O'Brien, telling him all about the hospital and his new acquaintances and that Dr Pulaski said hello, and the house and their neighbourhood and the little shop opposite the hospital that sold hot drinks and wonderful little crisp sweet pastries that he, O'Brien, would really enjoy. He asked after Keiko and Molly and Yoshi and Chester the cat and O'Brien's tricky shoulder. He hesitated, then wrote 'I'm happy here but I still miss you like mad' and made his suggestion about the holocommunications project.

He emphasised what a technical challenge it would be, and stooped to a bit of reverse psychology about 'of course if you don't think you can make it work I'll understand; they say Barclay could only nail it because he's a sort of mad genius.' He thought implying that it depended on erratic inspiration was a good touch; O'Brien would be determined to prove that dogged persistence and sound engineering could do the trick.

'Living with Garak is interesting,' he went on. 'He's changed a bit from the old days; more serious? He certainly works very, very hard. I'm trying to get him to exercise a bit of moderation so he can sustain it for longer. He says I'm not to try to be his mother or his wife, though if he says that again, I think I'll have to tell him he's being a bit sexist. Men can be nurturing too, and it's not weak or wrong to accept a bit of care from someone who loves you.

'And I do love him dearly. I have loved him for years, and I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. I would have loved to (although I suppose you may have found it mushy and embarrassing). You know how sometimes there's a person you just _know_ you _need_ _?_ Your brain and your body both say "YES. HIM." (or HER as the case may be.) Did you feel like that about Keiko? That whatever happened, however difficult it was, you needed to be with her? (I tend to suspect you did, with emphasis on "however difficult," no offence.)

'It was a huge surprise to feel like that about a man. Huge. It took me a while to accept it and get comfortable. I suppose I'm mentioning this because you might wonder, we're close, did I ever fancy you? (Or you might be yelling NO JULIAN I HAVE NEVER WONDERED THAT AND NOR SHOULD YOU. Tough!) I did think about it a bit myself, because I was thinking "All right, I can be attracted to men, have some of my friendships had an element of sexual attraction to them that I didn't really recognise or acknowledge to myself?"

'And I'm not going to tell you! So don't worry about it.

'Love, Julian.'

 

* * *

 

'Kate, I'd like to ask you for your opinion.'

Dr Pulaski looked up from her coffee as Julian sat down opposite her in the hospital canteen. 'For what it's worth - all right,' she said. 'Keep in mind, I just finished a four-hour surgery and my brain's a little fried.'

'Bad time?' Julian asked, wrapping his hands around his teacup.

'Not really, it just may be bad advice. Shoot.' She took a sip from her mug and smiled.

'Well. I've been here six months now.'

'Congratulations. Feels longer, doesn't it?'

'Some days. So... as you know, initially I was on three months' trial.'

'Ah, this is going to be _that_ kind of advice. Does he know you discuss him with me?'

'I've got to discuss him with someone, and you're sensible, reliable and experienced in keeping mum.'

'All true, I suppose.'

'And it's you or O'Brien - when the holoconferencing works, and he tends to get grumpy if I want to use that to talk about _relationships.'_

'I may get grumpy too if you don't get to the point, Julian.'

'All right. So, we agreed to three months' trial. And at the end of three months, he asked me to stay three more, to see, he said, if he still liked me when I was no longer on my best behaviour and the novelty had worn off.'

'And he still likes you?'

'I should say so.'

'So...'

'I don't just want another three months' renewal. I want to try to take a more decisive step. You've been married four times. You have a fair bit of experience with proposals. How do you think I should go about it?'

Dr Pulaski gave a startled laugh. 'Oh, Julian. One of those proposals consisted of "You wanna?" and "Okay".'

'I think I want to land somewhere between that and the opposite pole - which I suppose would involve flowers, waterfalls, synchronised fireworks and strolling gypsy violinists.'

'You're sure you want to get married? Not just to _get_ married, but to _be_ married, maybe for the rest of your life?'

'Yes. Very much.'

'All right. Well, have you looked into how Cardassians do these things? Is there some etiquette you're supposed to follow?'

'Not any that I can use. His father's dead, so I can't ask for his blessing, and we presume his mother is too; he doesn't actually know for certain who she was. He won't admit to having any other living relatives. On the positive side, same-sex marriage isn't unheard of here, it is recognised - but it's very rare, and it's generally considered something of a cop-out unless you know you're infertile or have some overriding reason not to have children.'

'They do have a thing about their families.'

'I know, that's what makes it so difficult - all the traditions assume you're dealing with someone with a close and extended family.'

'Well, that will have to change when the current crop of orphans gets to marriageable age.'

'Rather a sad reason for social change, but yes.'

'Then if you don't have a template from his culture to follow, maybe you should just go with yours.'

'Going down on one knee and producing a ring just doesn't seem to fit with Garak. For one thing, if I try to do anything sentimental, he'll be ruthlessly sarcastic about it.'

'This may be where the "You wanna?" approach serves you well.'

'It needs to be _elegant_ , though. To show some thought and care,' Julian fretted.

'True. The nicest proposal I got involved my favourite book, _Anne of Green Gables._ My boyfriend, as he then was, told me he'd found a lovely old antique copy of it for me. I opened it and found he'd hollowed out the middle and put a ring in the space, with a slip of paper wrapped around it that said "I think we're kindred spirits - will you have me?" I yelled at him for ruining a perfectly good old book, and then said that yes, I would.'

'Hmm. If I did that to _The Neverending Sacrifice_ I think he'd brain me with it.'

'And you need your brain.' She sipped her coffee.

'You're not really telling me what to do.'

'I don't know how to propose to a Cardassian either - or, more to the point, how to propose to your Garak, who I think may be a rule unto himself.'

'I'd like it to be a special memory for both of us, but I'm also aware of the risks of building it up too much, trying to create an elaborate set-piece that could flop horribly.'

'Julian. However you do it, I'm perfectly sure the time you asked him to be your husband will be a special memory for him.'

'I suppose. Look, how did you get "marriage proposal" from "You wanna"?'

'We were on the Old Strip in Las Vegas, looking at one of those little quickie wedding chapels.'

'Kate, when I grow up I want to be just like you.'

 

* * *

 

The holoconferencing room at the hospital occupied what had been a large supply closet, before the reopening of the north wing freed up some space. Julian had managed to nab it for his purposes by arguing that it would be good for the alien staff's mental health to be able to virtually visit with their friends and relations at home, and that when similar facilities were built in other Cardassian hospitals it would enable sharing of specialists without the need for travel.

O'Brien had sent him plans and instructions by subspace and he had built and installed the technology himself, during several of the 'weekends' the aid workers insisted on scheduling for themselves. 'Weekend' was not a Cardassian concept. He had congratulated himself once again on those engineering extension courses. It had taken several more weekends to get the wretched thing fine-tuned, but at least he'd been able to do that _with_ O'Brien. The first time he'd tried to hug him their images had clipped through each other and they had both got a terrible headache.

It was working pretty smoothly now, and their pub simulation opened up without a problem. He only had to wait a couple of minutes at the bar before O'Brien appeared.

'Next round's yours,' Julian said, sliding his pint over to him with a smile.

'Ta.' O'Brien supped and raised his eyebrows appreciatively.

'How are you?'

'Oh, I'm all right. You?'

'Actually, I've got a little quandary I want to ask you about.'

'Oh God. A quandary. Can we talk and play at the same time?'

'Of course. Oh, I meant to say, I've managed to adjust the physics on my darts for a fair handicap.'

They went over to the dartboard, where Julian courteously allowed O'Brien to play his first turn before he introduced the quandary.

'How exactly did you ask Keiko to marry you?'

'That's a bit of a weird question.'

'Humour me, please.'

'Well, all right, I tried to do things properly. I talked to her mum and dad - not that I needed permission, but I thought it'd be polite. They said ganbatte. So I talked to a couple of her mates in the arboretum, and we came up with a plan. I got Data to keep her busy for an afternoon, and we put up this trellisy arbour thing, covered in roses, all the colours they'd got. Set a nice table under it. He brought her back in the evening, I said surprise, we had dinner, and after pudding I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.'

'But how exactly did you _ask_ her?'

'I said, "Keiko, I love you, and I think you could make me really happy. I'll do everything I can to make you happy too. Will you marry me?"' He caught Julian's half-expectant, half-disappointed look. 'And I smiled at her, and I held her hand. Did the trick.' He stepped up to take his second turn.

'Well, the roses were a sweet touch. That probably sold it.'

'Oh, great, so now I know how to propose to _you_ if I ever want to.'

'Oh, no, I don't want roses. Let's see, I'd like the Casino de Monte Carlo, midnight, full moon -'

'Julian, you're making me bollocks up my shot.'

'Oh! Or the Bridge of Sighs, in Venice, under it in a gondola, sunset -'

'You're a girl, aren't you, you're basically a great big girl.'

'I'm perfectly secure in my masculine identity, thank you very much.'

'Oh good.'

'So's the man I want to ask to marry me.'

'Aha.' O'Brien scratched under his chin with the fletch of his last dart. 'Are you sure?'

'Why does everyone ask me if I'm sure?'

'How many people have you talked to about this?'

'You and Kate Pulaski.'

'Old grumpy-bum Pulaski?'

'Yes, she's like a woman you.'

'No, 'cos I haven't got an irrational fear of perfectly safe technology.' O'Brien aimed carefully and made a bull's-eye. 'Wahey!'

'Good shot. Really, why "are you sure"? This doesn't seem like a flash in the pan thing, does it?'

'No, I just mean, you live together. Aren't you as good as married already?' O'Brien asked over his shoulder, retrieving his darts.

'Then why didn't you and Keiko just live together?'

'Sometimes I think we should've _before_ we got married.'

'Problems?'

'Only the usual headaches. Molly got in trouble at school, had a fight with another kid about a game they were playing. Keiko got the call and went charging in there shouting the odds, because it couldn't be Molly's fault, could it?'

'It was Molly's fault?'

'Totally Molly's fault. She picked on the other kid because she was cross that she'd got the part in the class play that she wanted. She admitted it when I asked her what happened.'

'Oh dear. Well - at least Keiko had her back?'

'Molly was embarrassed. She just wanted to tell the other kid sorry and get over it.'

'Look, back to me and _my_ problems,' Julian said with a wry smile.

'If you want my opinion, just ask him straight out. Don't do anything fancy, just pick a nice quiet moment when you won't be interrupted, take his hand and say how about it.'

'That's how you'd want to be asked, isn't it.'

'I've honestly never thought about it. Hang on, what if he wants to ask you? He might be all disappointed if you beat him to the punch.'

'I hope it won't involve a punch.'

'That's only when a Klingon proposes to you.'

'I promise you, my stag night is going to be about a thousand times better than Worf's, I mean if I ever get to have one.'

'You mean we get to eat the food?'

'And no mad pain rituals. But look, I can't just wait around and _hope_ he's going to ask me - _I_ want us to be married, _I_ should propose.'

'I mean, do you want to have a big wedding, is that part of it?'

'No, just a little quiet one. Close friends and family. You'd be my best man, wouldn't you?'

'You're actually asking? Like you don't know the answer?'

'It seems only polite.' He deployed his best tenderly beseeching expression.

'Ah, jeez, the face - all right, yes I'll be your best man. If you get married. Don't hug me, my shoulder's sore.'

'How did you hurt it this time?'

'Teaching Yoshi how to bowl a googly.'

 

* * *

 

'Julian, is something worrying you?'

'Mm?' Julian looked up from his dinner.

'Not that I want to pry or intrude. You've just been uncharacteristically silent this evening.'

'I'm all right. Rather a sad day at work. A baby died; we did everything we could but he was such a tiny scrap, he just didn't have the strength to hold out until the drugs could work.'

'I know that if it could have been saved, you would have done it.'

'His mother was just a little girl. She lives in one of the bombed-out areas. She doesn't have anyone she could leave him with while she went to look for work, so she would swaddle him and hang him by a sling from the rafters. He'd rock and sleep. A vole climbed down the sling and bit the baby... his face... he would have been terribly scarred if he'd lived, but the infection carried him off.'

'That's terrible,' Garak said stiffly. Julian looked up at his tone.

'It isn't _your_ fault there are still a few people living in those places. You do everything you can too. We're both trying to make it better.'

'What's the girl's name? The young mother?'

'Why?'

'So I can make sure she's relocated. She can at least mourn her child under a decent roof.' He jabbed his fork into the casserole as if it were the vole in question.

'That would be truly kind of you.'

'It would be nothing but my duty.'

Julian reached across the corner of the table and covered Garak's hand with his. He wasn't sure what to say, so he settled for squeezing it and lifting it to his cheek. For a moment he wanted to ask now, but thought better of it. One simply could not ask someone for his hand in marriage when he was thinking about a dead baby.

'But in happier news,' he went on, 'Inta's sister-in-law is out of the induced coma and becoming lucid. The regenerative therapies that Dr Pulaski came up with have done wonders for her brain damage. We don't think she'll walk, but she recognised a picture of her children and asked after them. She's confused, because she can't yet take in that she's missed two and a half years, but it's a start.'

'Ah, my miracle worker,' Garak said with a brief smile. He patted Julian's cheek and went on with his dinner.

'The credit goes to Kate for this one.'

'You think very highly of her, don't you?'

'I think you'd like her, too. Shall I bring her home for dinner?'

'I don't think that's wise.'

'Because you like our home being a haven for just the two of us?'

'That, and... well, it's political.'

'Ah. Not politic to have Federation dinner guests?'

'Not at my home. Entertaining at a restaurant would be another thing. Shall we treat Dr Pulaski to dinner? The Scoria has reopened. It was very highly thought of before the war.'

'So a restaurant would be all right because it's public?'

'Just so. Nothing to hide, all in plain sight.'

'But on the other hand, rather lavish to be entertaining in restaurants, rather than serving a modest meal at home?'

'The appearance of transparency, in this case, is more important than the appearance of frugality.'

'Ahh, the _appearance_ of transparency.'

'Our old friend,' Garak said with a smile.

Later in the evening, they lay in bed, the house quiet around them, reading their respective books. Julian glanced over at Garak, admiring his concentration, knowing that he shouldn't interrupt it just to express his fondness for it. He slipped without realising it from glancing to gazing, absent-mindedly smiling.

'Something on your mind?' Garak asked drily, without apparently looking up.

'What? Oh, no.'

'Because you're making eyes at me again.'

'Am I? Speaking of transparency...'

'Were we?'

'Earlier we were.'

'Yes, I think you're very transparent.'

'No, I meant... you know how you still introduce me to people as your friend? "My friend, Julian"?'

'Yes...'

'And it's true, but not the whole truth.'

'The whole truth isn't fit for public consumption.'

'I know, but what if we told a little more of the truth? If you said I was your...'

'My what? "Boyfriend" sounds infantile. "Partner" sounds mercantile. We've discussed how ridiculous "lover" sounds when pronounced outside a bed.'

Julian gazed a moment longer, a possibility flowering in his mind. 'How would you feel about "husband"?'

Now Garak looked at him, eyes wide and mouth opening in, he thought, unfeigned surprise.

'It's a fine, solid, respectable word,' Julian pointed out.

'Julian, I...' Garak stopped and shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. 'I hadn't thought you thought in those terms...'

'Had you really not?'

'Are you _sure?'_

'Why does _everyone_ ask me if I'm sure? I'm perfectly sure that I love you and you love me. And I'm sure now that we live well together.' He rested his hand on Garak's forearm. 'Now, please answer the question - how would you feel about "husband"?'

'I would feel... outrageously lucky, and surprised every time I said it. That you really want to tie your life to mine.'

'As tight as I can.' He slid his hand down to Garak's, interlaced their fingers, squeezed hard.

'People will think you're mad. And I'm mad. For quite different reasons.'

'Let them.'

'I had been thinking,' Garak said very quietly, 'that surely, before long, you would realise that it wouldn't work and leave of your own accord. That I just had to give you time, and let it come naturally.'

'Do you believe that it won't work?'

'I don't know. I've changed from believing it won't, to not knowing.'

'Well, I find your agnosticism encouraging. But why did you let me live with you in the first place?'

'I decided that I wanted at least to have the part before it went wrong.'

'Dear... tell me... do you want to tell people, with perfect truth and accuracy, that I'm your husband?'

'Yes.'

'Then let's make arrangements so that you can.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would only say that the tone seems to be changing. I'm less interested in writing sexytimes and more in looking at how they enter the next phase of their life together. And talk. A lot.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

 _ I have some important news to share. _

Julian got that far, then spent a little while playing 3D chess against the computer.

_I am engaged._  


Whatever he tried to write to his parents came out so stilted, his normal easy flow of words (not 'verbal diarrhoea,' thank you, O'Brien) deserting him. Anyway, you couldn't just spring 'I am engaged' like that with so little lead-up.

 _ Do you remember meeting my Cardassian friend Garak on the station? _

'Aargh aargh aargh awkward,' he said aloud.

'Shall I write to them for you?' Garak asked. He was sitting on the couch sorting through a stack of padds from the ministry, take-home work which he had sworn would be finished in time for them to do something nice in the afternoon.

'No, no, it needs to come from me.'

'What if you recorded it as a video message?'

'Writing it is marginally easier.'

'I could pop over your shoulder at the end of it and grin at them disconcertingly.'

'Pff.'

'Hello! I've been _ruining_ your son.' Garak paused and thought. 'Wait a moment. They know you've relocated here, don't they? And that you've been living with me?'

'That I've relocated here, yes. Not that I've been living with you.'

'Why not? Embarrassed?'

'Not by you, no.' Julian sighed and swivelled his chair aimlessly from side to side. 'Do you know how sometimes, when you have something wonderful, you don't want to tell anyone who you think might spoil it for you?'

'How could they spoil living with me for you?'

'I don't know,' Julian said moodily. 'They'd probably find some way. Just by _knowing_ about it.'

'All I can say, my dear, is that if I had parents who not only acknowledged me as their own, but were openly proud and fond of me, I would consider myself fortunate indeed.'

'Nothing you're saying is _wrong_ , but I don't think you quite understand how I still feel about them. I do love them. I do know they only tried to do what they thought was best for me. But I still feel betrayed, deep down. What really hurts me is that I'll never be able to know. Was I really disabled? Would I have come right on my own? They didn't give me the chance.'

'You surprise me,' Garak said, twisting to look over the back of the couch at him. 'Have you really not worked that out?'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, we've both read the same reports of the shenanigans over in that alternate universe where I'm such a disappointment to everyone. Your counterpart there isn't notably dimwitted, is he?'

'No...' Julian said, light dawning.

'And given the unpleasant conditions for Terrans there, I very much doubt he had your advantages. No genetic enhancements for _him.'_

'Good grief,' Julian said quietly.

'So there you are. You might never have been as bright as you are, but I think you would, as you put it, have come right. But please note,' he said, raising one admonitory finger, 'that had you not been as bright as you are, you might not have been able to become a doctor, and even if you had, very likely would not have had your pick of assignments, might never have come to DS9 and might never have met me.'

'Well, I'd like to think I'd still have been a doctor, because I wanted to anyway - it just would have been much harder work.  And perhaps I'd still have ended up on DS9 because I _didn't_ have a choice of assignments - have you considered that?' Julian twisted around to sit backwards on his chair, his chin on the backrest.

'Do you mean, in my consideration of still another alternate universe having nothing to do with our own? Of course, but in _that_ one Gul Dukat had me executed on trumped-up charges and we never met.'

'Are you _sure_ they were trumped-up?'

'Completely! It was very sad for my wife and our eight children.'

'I hope you know all of their names.' Julian rested his chin on his hand and grinned.

'They're _imaginary_ children, Julian,' Garak said, aloof. 'Now resume your self-imposed task.'

'You're no fun any more,' Julian said, turning back to the computer with a sigh. 'Are you sure you don't want me to help you with those resource applications?'

'Quite sure, dear.'

'Sigh.'

'I'm sure you're not supposed to pronounce it that way.'

 _ Dear Mum and Dad, _

__

_I have some important news to share. As you know, I'm living on Cardassia Prime these days. What I didn't tell you, because I wanted to see how it would work out before I said anything_ (a slight fudge of the truth, but acceptable in the name of sparing parental feelings) _is that I've been living with someone, and now we're engaged. I know you'll be happy to hear that._

 __

_The part of this that is awkward to explain, because you've only ever known me to be involved with women, is that this someone is a man. His name is Elim Garak, and I think I introduced you when you visited the station - he owned a clothing shop then. At that time, we were just friends_ (another slight fudge, but preferable to explaining how complicated things had been) _but we have fallen in love. I know this may seem very strange, because it's an aspect of my life that I didn't tell you anything about until now._

 _ I feel a bit foolish trying to explain the whole thing. Perhaps you can come and see us and it will all make more sense that way. I love him more than I can tell you. _

_ Love, Julian _

'What do you think?' he asked Garak, sending the draft to the screen of his padd.

'You're sure about inviting them to stay?'

'Well, not necessarily to _stay.'_

'If they're coming all the way from Earth, you can't really expect them to have a meal with us, then turn around and go back. They'll expect some quality time with their son.'

'Ah, but perhaps we could just do this via the holoconference room.'

'You are a cunning little man. I knew I was marrying you for a reason.' Garak set down his padd. 'We might have to actually host them when we get married, though.'

'Ah, but that's where we point out, sorrowfully, that this is just a small house with but one bedroom, and we can find them a lovely hotel.'

'Well, an adequate hotel. Luxury tourism hasn't really recovered from the war.'

'Look, if we have to put them in the staff sleeping quarters at the hospital, I don't suppose they'll complain.'

'I would have hoped that _some_ Cardassian family values might have started to rub off on you. The filial thing to do would be to give them our bed and sleep on the living-room floor.'

'I can't let my _parents_ sleep in _our_ bed. Some things need to remain strictly compartmentalised. We have sex in there.'

'What if _they_ had sex in there?' Garak opened his eyes wide in mock alarm.

'Oh, God. Why would you say such a horrifying thing? I refuse to acknowledge that they've done that more than the requisite once to produce me.'

'In any case, yes, I think the letter is fine.'

The reply came a week later, indicating that Amsha had sent her answer by return of post.

 _ My darling Jules, _

__

_ We were both so happy to hear your wonderful news. Please don't feel strange or awkward about it. We love you exactly as you are and I am sure we will love your fiancé too. I'm just so glad that you have found the right person for you - I was starting to think you might be a bachelor boy forever. You must promise that I can still hope for grandchildren though. You would be a wonderful daddy and your kiddies would be beautiful.  Your daddy would like to know whether you have set a date, so he can work out if it's possible to prepare a special vintage for the occasion. Please let us know as soon as you make plans! We would love to come and see you and welcome Elim to the family. When would suit? Or you could come and see us and we would make you very welcome. We have lots of room here and the weather is lovely. Your daddy is quite a Kiwi now and wants to show you all over the place. Please let me know if there is anything you need from home or anything you can't get on Cardassia and I will send you a care package. _

__

_ Love always, _

_ Mummy _

'She never makes paragraphs,' Julian said apologetically, showing Garak the padd as he sat down beside him. 'Cheers.' He tapped the rim of his glass against Garak's.

'I'm to bewelcomed to the family, I see,' Garak said. 'With special vintages and care packages. She's very enthusiastic.'

'I think she's just thrilled that I wrote,' Julian admitted.

'I think I see my role in the family,' Garak mused, swirling his kanar in its glass. 'The son-in-law who keeps in touch better than the actual son and curries favour.'

'That's not very loyal.' Julian leaned against him. 'One thing she brings up, that we should actually talk about before we make things official. This grandchildren business.'

'Ah.'

'Now, I know when we were talking about whether I could stay you said you didn't want to have children. So I just want to ask whether that's absolute, or something you might reconsider.'

'You said you didn't need to have children.'

'I don't _need_ to, but I might _like_ to. One day. Before I'm too old to run around and play with them.'

'What about the genetic stigma issue?'

'Well, I don't really want to get into the whole tangle of donated eggs and surrogate mothers and so on and so forth, and I'm definitely not keen on that implanted temporary womb business some men go in for. I'd feel too much like a seahorse. I'm sure I'd love adopted children just as much. If you say no I still want to marry you, unquestionably. It's just a good idea to know where we both stand.'

'Adopted children might be all right. Not too soon, though. I want to have you to myself for a while, and get used to it.'

'That sounds fine to me. Shall we discuss it again when we've been married a year? See how you feel then?'

'Only a year?'

'You've had me for six months already. How long does "used to it" take for you?'

'I don't yet take you for granted.'

'You're not supposed to. You're _supposed_ to retain a sense of wonder and gratitude that here I am, sitting beside you, at the end of the day, enjoying quite a good single malt.'

'Ah, then I'm doing quite well.' Garak patted Julian's knee.

'I suppose there are some other things we should work out. Do you think there's any reason for either of us to take the other's name?'

'Actually, taking a Cardassian name might help you socially.'

'Oh. I was actually wondering if you'd want to be a Bashir.'

'Political suicide, my dear.'

'It'll only be confusing if I'm Dr Garak. I'd be forever thinking people were talking to you. I suppose we could hyphenate.'

'Or just leave our names well enough alone.'

'Do we want to wear rings?'

'You're really keen to make some sort of _show _ of marriage, aren't you?'

'I am a bit.'

'A ring would be all right - nothing ostentatious.'

'No, just a plain gold band is customary. You wear it on the third finger of your left hand - there - because people used to believe that a blood vessel ran uninterrupted from there straight to the heart.'

'Then that would be fine.'

'And we can get our initials engraved inside, and the date.'

'Are there any Earth customs you'll want me to abide by that I may not be aware of?'

'Let's see. Well, it's customary to mark the anniversary of the marriage with a nice dinner and an exchange of small presents. Sometimes other people will give you presents to mark the occasion as well. There are themes for each year. I can remember the first one's paper. The things get fancier the longer you stay married. We don't have to bother with that but my mum definitely will. Oh, and the dinner-and-presents thing also applies on the fourteenth of February, because that's St Valentine's Day, but I'll actually let you off that because it's a bit rubbish. And I want a fuss made of me for my birthday, but we already celebrate that. Breakfast in bed is always acceptable. How about you? Anything I should do as a dutiful Cardassian husband?'

'Hmm... well, you know about the sauna requirement.'

'Yes.'

'And the back-scratching. Hmm... well, you could, from time to time, mention that I've ruined you for all other men, possibly women too. And, of course, always support me in public. If you think I'm going horribly wrong in some respect, you may say "No comment" and discuss it with me in private.'

'Understood. And now's probably a good time to come clean on any last secrets we may be keeping from each other.'

'Oh, come _on.'_

'All right, only joking. But is there anything, anything you want to know? Anything that it would put your mind at rest to get an answer about?'

'You know, one thing I've always wondered but never asked. I noticed it some years ago. You have a short, straight scar across the side of your neck. That's unusual in itself; most humans have scars erased. Is there a story behind it?'

'Ah, well, there have been _lots_ of stories, chiefly told to impress impressionable young ladies. I think the best one was that I got it in a knife-fight defending a girl's honour. Or perhaps that I was gored by a stag in the Highlands...'

'I am neither a young lady nor impressionable.'

'All right. But _ nobody_ outside my family knows this, and I am _only_ telling you because you are becoming part of the family.' Julian looked around in an exaggerated show of caution. 'You know how people joke about running with scissors? As something that we're all warned in childhood not to do, like stuffing beans up your nose or licking a frozen lamp-post?'

'Yes...'

'Running with scissors. Fell on 'em. Ksshhkh.' He made a stabbing gesture towards his neck.

'You poor little thing!'

'My mother was _furious_. I mean, once she knew I was going to be all right. Which I very nearly wasn't, but she got me to hospital in time. She told the doctor that I had to have the scar to remind me not to take stupid unnecessary risks, so they didn't do the usual cosmetic part of the healing procedure.'

'Your mother sounds a tough lady.'

'She isn't usually - she's quite mild and gentle. But it had given her such a horrible shock to see her little boy with scissors stuck in his neck, going an awful yellowy-white while blood poured down his front, that she came over very fierce in the aftermath. _And_ this was after they'd spent all that money and taken all those risks to have me genetically enhanced, so it would have been an awful waste if I'd managed to accidentally kill myself.'

'And I would have had to manage without you, and think how sad that would have been!'

'I also put a bean up my nose once, in a spirit of scientific enquiry. As I have quite wide nostrils, it just fell out again.'

'I licked a frozen lamp-post. Although, being a cautious child, I had already ascertained that the way to detach a tongue from frozen metal was to pour on warm water, so I had a flask of it ready.'

'You might have made a good friend for me. I was always getting into things without thinking about how I was going to get out.'

'Ah, I always had an exit strategy - and plausible deniability.'

'I would expect nothing less.'

* * *

Richard and Amsha expressed some disappointment at not coming to see Julian and Garak directly.

'But why should you have to take all that travel time when we can see each other so much more conveniently this way?' Julian argued. 'It's difficult for Garak to take time away from work, too, so you wouldn't see that much more of him if you did. And of course you'll be coming out for the wedding, so why double up?' They reluctantly agreed.

'They seem to think the more they inconvenience themselves the more it shows they love me,' he told Garak as they waited their turn for the holoconference room at the hospital. They were both dressed in their best and Julian was both sweaty and fidgety, getting up and sitting down and disarranging his hair and cuffs and collar until Garak made him sit still and tidied him.

'Calm down,' he said. 'I'm the one who's supposed to be nervous, being presented to my future in-laws.'

'You're never nervous,' Julian moaned. 'Well. Never about trivial things.'

'If you admit it's trivial, you shouldn't be nervous. How can I calm you down?'

'I don't know. Take me into the supply closet for a quick grope?'

'Highly inadvisable.'

'There's probably someone already in there. That supply closet is the top hook-up spot in the whole damn hospital. It's a den of vice in here, honestly.'

'Julian.' Garak took hold of his shoulders and gave him a firm, kind, shut-up kiss. _' Calm down.'_

'Trying,' Julian said with an awkward smile. The door of the holoconference room hissed open and the consultant who had been using it nodded to them as he walked off. 'Right.' Julian took a deep breath and blew it out, puffing his cheeks. 'Time to get started. Computer, run program Bashir 23.'

'What are programs one through 22 like?' Garak asked, intending to keep him distracted. As they stepped into the room he looked around; it looked like an elegant sitting room, in an unfamiliar style, though probably one from Earth.

'One is just a blank room. I kept it for sentimental value. Two is the pub where O'Brien and I meet up before going anywhere else. The rest are various scenarios - military history, settings from books and old movies. 22 actually isn't finished yet but it's going to be Ankh-Morpork, which is a huge job. We're doing bits of it each - and when we get it up and running we so want you to play the Patrician. He's the ruler, and he's wonderfully cunning and Machiavellian, and we just don't want to have him as an NPC.'

'I'll consider it. So I presume O'Brien has copies of everything?'

'Exactly, which is how we're setting this up today. My mum and dad have gone to meet him in San Francisco, and right about now he should be setting them up in the equivalent room at the Academy. It's based on a room in a book my mother likes - I thought that would be nice for her. You look wonderful, by the way. I should have said that.'

'Well, now you have. As do you.'

'Why can't I just be calm and happy?'

'I don't know, my dear. Here they come now.'

A door on the other side of the room opened, admitting the Bashirs and Chief O'Brien. He waved briefly to Julian, who was being engulfed in parental hugs, and started to withdraw.

'Why don't you stay and join us for a drink?' Julian said with a note of desperation.

'Oh, thanks, but I'm up to my eyes in marking term projects,' O'Brien said. 'I'll catch up with you later.'

'Oh, all right,' said Julian, wilting slightly as his friend vanished. He turned back to his parents and summoned a smile. 'I should probably re-introduce everyone,' he said. 'Mum, Dad, I'd like to present my fiancé Elim Garak. Garak, this is my mother Amsha and my father Richard.'

There was a round of polite hand-shaking, and Garak managed to charm Amsha by half-bowing as he took her hand.

'We're so glad to meet you,' she said, 'because Julian hasn't told us nearly enough about you. Now come and sit down so I can talk to you.' She took Garak's arm and conducted him over to one of the sofas, with Richard plunking himself down on the other side of them and smiling affably through his moustache.

'Um, so, should I get a drink for everyone?' Julian asked, bobbing uncertainly on his toes. 'Yes. I'll just do that.' He went off to the drinks cabinet he had programmed, and when he returned with a tray of glasses was horrified to find that his mother had produced her holo-album. Where had she _concealed_ the wretched thing? It was made to look like a big leather-bound book, for heaven's sake, and it contained one of the most exhaustively documented childhoods outside of a royal family or a science experiment. Amsha was showing Garak his baby pictures, including, by the sound of her commentary, the one in which he'd been wearing his potty on his head.

 _' Mum!' _he bleated. 'He doesn't need to see those!'

'Of course he does, Jules,' she said imperturbably. 'Ah, look! Here he is lost in the back garden.'

'I was not _lost ,'_ Julian said. 'The grass was too tall and Dad never cut it. Anyway, Garak doesn't want to see that rubbish.'

'Of course I do, Jules,' said Garak with a taunting smile. 'I had no idea you were such an endearing child.'

'Here's one of my favourites,' pointed out Richard, 'where he's at the beach eating sand.'

'Oh God,' mumbled Julian, and sat down. Forty minutes later he was still slumped with his chin in his hand as Garak was taken through the shaming evidence that in his seventh summer he had worn a tail pinned to the seat of his pants, a brass curtain ring over his ear, and insisted on answering only to 'Reepicheep.'

'He was such an _ imaginative_ little boy,' Amsha said fondly. 'He filled five school padds with "The Further Adventures of Reepicheep in Space". Oh! And here's his first tennis lesson.'

'We could be having dinner by now,' Julian pointed out, without much hope of distracting them.

'This appears to have been about the time he began to grow _legs ,'_ Garak observed. 'He resembles a wading bird in white shorts.'

'Oh, they were like sticks with knots in them! Other mothers thought I didn't feed him enough!'

'I'm bloody starving now,' Julian muttered into his hand.

'Oh, come on,' said his father, coming over to sit beside him and giving him a friendly nudge. 'Your mum's been wanting to do this with your bride-to-be pretty much forever.'

'Dad, that's not a bride sitting over there. Please tell me you've noticed.'

'Well, I mean, she's just adapting it to the circumstances. Gary doesn't seem to mind.'

'Garak, Dad, his name is Gar _ak._ It rhymes with barrack.'

'He seems like a nice fellow,' Richard said gamely. 'Bit different from your other girlfriends, of course...'

'You mean in that he's _not a girl?' _ Julian was starting to feel distinctly touchy on this point.

'Mostly just that he's a fair bit older than you. Of course, that doesn't matter, does it?'

'I would hope not, because there's nothing we can do about it.'

'Ah, come on, Jules, don't be cross.'

'I'm not cross. I'm just hungry and embarrassed. Why does Mum have to do this? I wanted to feel... proud. I happen to think it's a pretty big achievement to have finally found the person I want to marry, and talked him into it.'

'Of course it is! And what do you mean talked him into it? He should've jumped at the chance. What's his problem?'

'Nothing,' Julian said, holding back a laugh at how indignant his father was on his behalf. 'He's had a bit of a hard life and it's made him a bit... skeptical about things like true love conquering all. You know the sort of thing - I love you but I can't guarantee you happiness therefore I think you should run a mile.'

'Well, that's daft.' Richard shifted in his seat. 'But I can sort of understand it. I'd've done anything I could to guarantee you happiness, when you were a kid.'

'I know. You did try. And I do appreciate the intention.'

'Thanks. Look, just try and appreciate your mum's intentions too. She thinks this is... a gift for the two of you. So he can feel like he's always known you.'

'But if he'd always known me we probably wouldn't be together now. The age difference really would matter. So... like he's _retroactively_ always known me, but without it being a bit creepy?'

'There you go.'

'As engagement presents go, then, it's all right, but for a wedding present I think we'd rather have towels.'

'Not to worry. I'll have a word with your mum.'

Julian found himself smiling at his father; it occurred to him that this was the nicest talk they'd had in about twenty years, and he wanted to say so, to make it clear that he appreciated it and hoped it was the start of a better rapport between them, but that seemed so awkward and artificial. He stuck to smiling.

'Amsha, love,' Richard said, leaning over towards the other sofa. 'I don't know about you, but I'm half starved. Why don't you show him the rest later and we can have something to eat. And Jules' stomach thinks his throat's been cut.'

'What an extraordinary expression,' said Garak, closing the album. 'If he's suffering, of course we shouldn't keep him waiting.'

'Come through to the dining room,' Julian said, bounding to his feet. 'I've programmed a menu I think everyone's going to like. It's sort of British-Pakistani-Cardassian fusion, if you can have such a thing.'

'I really need to _cook_ a meal for you two, though,' Amsha said as they sat down and dishes appeared on the table. 'Oh, now what's that interesting-looking blue thing? Garak, I need you to explain things to me.'

'Julian can explain it just as well,' Garak said. 'He's been far more assiduous in educating himself about Cardassian food than I have about Earth's cuisine. What, for example, is this?'

'They're best friends already,' Richard said to Julian, who nodded and smiled, although he suspected this was mostly just good manners and charm on Garak's part so far. He realised that he ought to at least exercise similar good manners to his own father.

'How are things with your vineyard?' he asked, which was an excellent move as it relieved him of any need to say anything substantive, just responding with interested noises and prompting questions as his father told him everything one could possibly wish to know, and more besides, about the vineyard (which was not actually _his , _except in the sense that he loved it dearly). The grape varieties, the soil, the drainage, on and on.

'I'd've brought a bottle with us today, but of course it'd only be a replication from your point of view, and I won't insult your palate with that,' Richard said. 'I'm bringing _crates_ to your wedding, though.'

'Don't overdo it. We aren't planning to have a big guest list.'

'That's all right. Wine keeps. You'll just have your first year's supply all laid in. Who are you having? I mean, your aunties and uncles will be hard to keep away.'

'But it's so far to come, and they're so... '

'Loud?'

'Especially when they're happy!'

'Yeah, but they're happy for _you.'_

'They could be happy quietly. At a distance. Looking at the pictures. I mean, what if Auntie Morag ululates?'  


'Allright, it's a bit much when Morag gets going. Who are you planning to invite, then?'

'You two, of course. The O'Briens. A few people from the station, but I don't know how many of them will be able to come, so the invitation's really more of a token thing, telling them that we'd _like_ to have them there if that were possible. Kate from my work and Macet from Garak's, and although Garak thinks it wouldn't be appropriate I think he ought to ask his housekeeper and her family - I mean he's got to have _someone_ on his side of the hall.'

'Do his family not approve or something?'

'I'm afraid my family are no longer with us,' Garak said from across the table, having evidently been keeping track of two conversations at once. 'I have no idea whether they would have approved of the marriage, but I did have the impression that my father rather liked Julian.'

'Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,' Richard said, embarrassed.

'It's quite all right. Now Julian, as I've said, I believe Inta and her family would only be made uncomfortable by such an invitation. And there's no reason to arrange our guests on different sides of the hall. Let people sit where they like, within reason.'

'I just don't want you to not have anyone.'

'I'll have you. Isn't that the point of the whole occasion? And Macet was quite flatteringly pleased to be asked to act as my attendant, so there's him. I tell you what: I'll ask him to bring Mrs Dukat and her children. They'll pad out the numbers nicely.'

'And you don't think _they'll _ feel uncomfortable, given that you were instrumental in the children's grandfather's downfall and a sworn enemy of their father?'

'Of course not; we're of the same social class, you see. Besides, she's a lovely woman, and getting ready to come out of full mourning, and the opportunity to see Macet looking handsome and upstanding in a smart suit will do her the world of good. Against my advice, he's somehow forced his face to grow a full beard, and it's surprisingly becoming. Not as much as yours, but it's an improvement on that strange topiary he affected before.'

'Do you really like his beard?' Amsha asked, sounding disappointed. 'I think it makes him look as if he's got something to hide.'

'That's why I like it so much. It hints at mystery, secrecy, perhaps even villainy. A little mystique keeps a marriage vital, don't you think?'

'His hair needs cutting, too.'

'But it's appealing when it's slightly floppy and foppish.'

'So you like me to look like a possibly villainous fop?' Julian asked, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. 'Perhaps I outwardly appear to be a fop but am secretly actually a rake and a cad?'

'That would be _wonderful._ But please don't reveal it until we're safely married.'

'Oh, of course not. After the honeymoon is when we rakes and cads finally show our true colours.'

'You're very silly boys,' Amsha said reprovingly. 'Julian, please tell me you'll have a haircut for your wedding.'

'Yes, Mum. I promise I will have a haircut, and look neat and smart and presentable. My face will be washed, my shoes will be polished, I will be standing up straight and not slouching or scratching or picking my nose.'

'Just as well,' Garak said.

* * *

'I thought that went remarkably well.'

'Yes, if it weren't for my father calling you _Gary.'_ Julian mimicked his father's accent as he took his shoes off. 'So Gary, Jules says you've got a government job? Civil servant?'

'I am a civil servant,' Garak replied from the bathroom.

'You're the Minister of Reconstruction. He should read the news.'

'Well, other than that, you agree that it went well, don't you?'

'Yes...'

'Good. Do you want a bath?'

'A more definite yes.' He walked through to the bathroom, pulling his shirt off over his head, hugging Garak from behind as he straightened up from turning on the taps. He put his head on Garak's shoulder and leaned there a while, feeling deeply soothed by the contact. 'I was very, very proud of you throughout.'

'Thank you, dear. What's wrong with "Gary," anyway? I assumed it was a diminutive, meant affectionately, just like "Jules." I found that very welcoming - as if he were saying he would treat me as a son too.'

'Well, it is, but it's not very dignified. You are very, very much not a Gary.'

'What sort of man is a Gary?'

'I don't know. I sort of imagine... a North American... lummox. Or possibly a galoot. If you were going to have a human name it ought to be more sophisticated than that. Maybe something Roman, like my name, or Greek. There were definitely no Garys in classical antiquity. You'd make a nice Claudius.'

'I will certainly keep that in mind the next time I visit classical antiquity.' Garak twisted around to face Julian and brushed his hair off his forehead, stroking it back.

'Sometimes I try to imagine how your face might look if you _were_ human.'

'Sometimes I try to imagine how yours might look if you were Cardassian. I usually decide that I like you better as you are.'

'Oh, I definitely don't want to change you. Wait, _usually?'_

'For the span of a brief fantasy I allow myself to imagine what your neck would look like, then go back to preferring the real you.'

'I thought you liked my neck as it is.'

'I adore your neck as it is. It is beautiful, kissable, lickable and acutely biteable. Don't worry. Doesn't everyone have the occasional daydream that they enjoy, but don't have any interest in it coming true?'

'I suppose so.'

'Don't pout. I am very pleased with you exactly as you are. If I start to imagine you otherwise, I remember my great fondness for your soft eyebrows,' (he kissed them in turn) 'the smooth round tip of your nose... and your ridiculously expressive and curvaceous lips.' He finished there, and lingered.

'I am duly reassured. Perhaps you should turn off the water before the bath overflows?'

'Yes. But your confidence naturally came first.'

They lay in the bath in their accustomed manner, Julian leaning back against Garak, his eyes closed contentedly.

'Do you still love me even knowing that I used to eat sand?'

'I think I ate my own share of sand, earth and other assorted sediment as a small child.'

'They don't know, but once I ate a _worm._ Not a food worm. Just a garden worm. To see what would happen. Nothing did.'

'Julian... _is _ there anything, do you think, that would stop you loving me? Or induce you to call all this off?'

'Why? You aren't looking for a way out, are you?'

'No, but... it occurred to me to wonder. To fret slightly. At this late stage.'

'You're not usually insecure.'

'I'm not usually getting married.'

'All right. Well. There's the Jane Eyre scenario, obviously. That's the one where I find out you're still married to someone else you never told me about.'

'I'm in the clear, then.'

'But that might not be a complete deal-killer. I would call the wedding off until we'd sorted things out, obviously. I'd want a damn good reason why you weren't properly divorced and hadn't mentioned the earlier marriage. But if there _were_ a good reason, perhaps I'd forgive you and we could reschedule.'

'Really?'

'Of course. I suppose the only thing that I really couldn't forgive, the thing that nothing could mitigate, and I don't even particularly like to speak of it, and I assure you I am not expecting or even suspecting it, is if you'd ever raped anybody.'

'Absolutely not.'

'I didn't think so.'

'I'm afraid I did see it done, when I was a young man, as part of interrogations - well, torture, really, since the point was to inflict pain and fear, not to elicit any useful information. I found it revolting and determined never to allow it to happen under my authority.'

'It's not a very nice topic, is it? I wouldn't have said anything, but you did ask.'

'And very strange to talk about when I'm feeling so comfortable and peaceful in the bath.'

'Well, now we can drop it and never think of it again.'

‘Is there anything you’re worrying about, though?’

‘The possibility of Auntie Morag ululating during the ceremony.’

‘I thought Morag was a Klingon name.’

‘One of those coincidences. No, honestly, I have worries about the _wedding_ but not about the _marriage.’_

‘Good. Good, then.’

‘You?’

‘Cautiously optimistic.’

* * *

‘Julian.’

‘Mm?’ Julian looked up from his book.

‘Let this bring home to you the imprudence of sending people wedding invitations which you don’t actually intend them to accept.’ Garak raised an admonitory finger.

‘Look, I’m sorry about the aunties and uncles, but at least they’re not going to bring _all_ the little cousins...’

‘No, that’s not what I mean.’ Garak dropped a couple of RSVP cards in his lap. ‘What I mean is that our small, unassuming, just-family-and-a-few-close-friends wedding now has to accommodate the Grand Nagus of the Ferengi Alliance, his family, and their retinue.’

‘Well, I thought just Rom and Leeta...’

‘No, because Rom’s mother has invited herself, and do you, in your fondest imaginings, presume that he can tell his mother no? And she wishes to bring her husband. And her husband cannot travel without his valet. And various assistants and accountants must attend them at all times. And a nanny! Because although strictly speaking, Bajorans and Ferengi can’t breed, it’s amazing what you can achieve in vitro. Twice!'

‘Oh, gosh.’

‘And do you know who Quark will be bringing as his plus one?’

‘I didn’t even think Quark would be able to get away from the bar.’

‘The Lady Grilka. And _her_ retinue.’

 _‘That’s_ on again?’

 _‘That_ is very _much_ on.’

‘Of course I’m very happy for them, but... she’s going to break him like a twig.’

‘And do you know what’s extra delightful?’

‘I daren’t think.’

‘Remember how Worf was very sorry but absolutely couldn’t make it?’

‘Yeee-es...’

‘Due to various diplomatic incidents, his calendar has changed and he will be there with bells on. Spiked bells, one presumes.’

 _‘He_ won’t have a retinue, will he?’

‘Fortunately not. But Martok is making noises about joining him. Apparently he thinks attending the wedding of two people he met in prison would be rather amusing.’

‘Look, while having the Grand Nagus and the High Chancellor at our wedding would be a tremendous honour...’

‘It is all a bit _much ,_ and I do not think it will do my political career any good.’

‘Really? I would have thought the opposite.’

Garak shook his head. ‘Makes me look self-aggrandising. Our first full general elections are just two years off. I wish to create an impression of indispensible permanence, not of being, well, a politician. It’s the only way to be effective in the long term. That’s what I still don’t understand about democracy. How can any meaningful long-term projects be undertaken when the people can change their minds about who they want in charge every four years or so?’

‘Well, the point rather is that they get to choose which long-term projects they consider meaningful.’

‘And how are they to judge? If you take a man at random from the street, can we expect him to know my job as well as his own?’

‘So you’d like to just be appointed Minister of Reconstruction for Life?’

‘Not for life. I do hope to find a suitable successor and retire before I’m too old to enjoy it.’

‘I like how you’re simultaneously a reformer and a reactionary.’

‘Well, now I’m a reformer and a reactionary with a rather ostentatious-looking wedding.’

‘We can still be discreet and modest. But we might need to hire a larger hall.’

‘At least we’ll save money on the catering. Worf and Martok want to bring us a brace of wild targs for the reception dinner.’

‘Wild targ’s quite nice if it’s been properly hung,’ Julian said hopefully.

‘I’m just wondering who else can turn up. Perhaps Odo, and all the other Founders, travelling through space as a vast wibbly-wobbly blob. Or Captain Sisko, in the form of an Orb!’

‘To advise us on the seasoning of the targ!’

‘And then all the Founders would perform a sort of gelatinous aerobatic dance to entertain our guests. Like gooey fawn fireworks.’

‘And Auntie Morag would simply ululate all over the place.’

‘And all the Klingons will have a grand celebratory fight.’

‘And Chief O’Brien will sing.’

‘This is rapidly getting away from us, Julian.’

‘But how can we stop it without snubbing kind people who like us?’

‘We can’t. Let’s just try to keep the noise down. I really don’t want anyone to call the police.’


	3. Wrapping All This Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't finish this story properly but I want to summarise what I think would happen. This is a cop-out but it's better than having an unfinished story glaring at me reproachfully.

Right, so, I have made repeated and abortive efforts to write the rest of what would happen to them, but I just can't find a _flow._ So here are the fragments.

  


  

  * O'Brien and Julian spent most of the night before the wedding sitting on the roof of Garak's house companionably drinking and singing.
  

  * Keiko decided, pretty much unilaterally, that she was going to surprise the bridegrooms with a magnificent floral display in the hall they'd hired for the wedding. Everything went better than expected, chiefly because she was trying to create an unfussy, streamlined, masculine theme so she heavily featured blue irises (irises are considered 'boy' flowers in Japan because of their spear/sword-shaped leaves, in case you ever wondered). Garak came over uncharacteristically misty-eyed, and was surprised to have to explain to Julian that it was because the first time he ever spoke to him, he was sitting at a table in the Replimat, with a vase of blue irises on it - consequently he'd always associated those flowers with him. (Keiko, in the background: _Yes._ I _rule_ at flowers _._ )
  

  * I was really torn between whether they should just have a happy, uncomplicated wedding, or whether I should introduce some goddamn _conflict_ to the plot. I had this idea that Rugal, the Cardassian boy from 'Cardassians,' has been nursing a grudge against Julian and Garak for _years,_ holding them the most responsible for his separation from his adoptive parents, since Garak was the one who interfered and drew attention to them in the first place, and Julian, at Garak's prompting, was the one whose grandstanding speech at the custody hearing settled the question. Neither his Bajoran parents nor his Cardassian father survived the war, he has never been able to assimilate to Cardassian society, he's miserable and angry and wants to get back at them. So he was going to have infiltrated the wedding reception as a waiter and there would have been some holding at gunpoint or something, and Rugal would make a typical Cardassian Speech about how hard done by he was and how somebody had to pay, and Garak would actually be quite pleased about the disruption because everything had been going so _well_ it was making him nervous. But I just couldn't figure out the details or how to resolve the situation. Poot.
  

  * About a year after their marriage, they agreed to adopt a Cardassian baby. Except the baby boy they liked, at an orphanage that made Julian mildly uncomfortable by its resemblance to an animal shelter, turned out to have a three-year-old sister, and breaking them up just seemed wrong so without quite intending it they acquired two children in one day. (The little girl was already called Erika, one of those coincidental cognate names, but the baby boy had no official name and I couldn't decide whether they gave him a Cardassian name or called him Ian.) Adjusting to being 'Daddy' and 'Papa' (Julian is 'Daddy,' of course) came with its own complications; Julian worried that things were unequal because he bonded very quickly with the baby while the little girl seemed to prefer Garak's company, and Garak had a lot of difficulty with how, exactly, to express healthy parental affection, since he really didn't have a model for it in his own childhood. ('You're not _touching_ them enough.' 'I picked the baby up yesterday.' 'To move him out of the way!') On the other hand, Erika seemed to like the way he would quietly get on with something while allowing her to follow him around and sit next to him, leaning on him and holding a pinch of his jacket, and he taught her to sew with remarkable ease. Both kids seemed to be turning out all right.
  

  * Anyway, a bit after that the first democratic elections were held, and although Garak's party was elected to form a government, he wasn't asked to continue as Minister of Reconstruction, he was 'rewarded' with the post of Ambassador to Earth. He was furious about this, seeing it as a) another exile and b) a calculated snub; where once they might have said 'If you like humans so much, why don't you _marry_ one?' now they were saying 'Go and live with them, then!' He felt disowned and rejected all over again. Julian did his best to make the transition easier for him, arranging for them to live in Egypt, in the same time zone as Paris, so Garak could have a comfortable climate, but in so doing inadvertently gave Garak the impression that he was looking forward to living on Earth again, giving rise to some resentment. It took a while to hash out the fact that Julian hadn't wanted to move either, that he _loved_ living on Cardassia and was trying to be a good sport so as not to make it harder for Garak or the children.
  

  * True to his word, Chief O'Brien never did have Garak round for dinner, but the two families did have a lot of shared lunches.
  

  


**Author's Note:**

> This is something of a WIP and I may write more later.


End file.
